Danem
by HeCallsMeHisChild
Summary: Resilience Saga, story 3: Five years have passed. Zim has integrated into hyuman society-for the most part. But when he uncovers disturbing information about Red, he makes two deadly bargains-one with Gaz, one with the Eyeballs-to salvage his Tallest. But will the answer he's looking for be worth the cost?
1. Five Years

**Note:** Brain: _It's been three years since you finished Mekrelmar._ Me: _Yep. _Brain:_ Wow, now you have like five writing projects going at once. _Me: _Mhmmm._ Brain:_ You know what you need? Another one. Here's an idea for the third installment in this series_. Me_:…fml…_ Brain: _You're welcome._

So yeah… third in the series. It goes Maneem, Mekrelmar, and now… Fareto. I thought we were done after Mekrelmar. I suppose not. Usual disclaimers: Only romance that will be happening is between Membrane and Gloria, Della and Tom… there might be one more but I'm unsure at the moment. But it's not Zim and Dib. Never. Ever. Ever. Nor is it Zim and Mikko, or Tiana.

….

Dib stared at the tool in his hands, a confused expression on his face. "A… hacksaw, Zim? Really? What's this for?"

"Your legs."

"My… Oh come off it Zim, really?"

The alien scowled upward, tilting his head back too many degrees for his comfort. "It's not fair!"

Grinning, Dib stuck his hands in his pockets. "Look, Zim, I won't make short jokes. Well, not many. But it's just the way it is. Most Irkens are short, right? Well, most humans get growth spurts. Mikko's growing pretty fast, and I don't see you handing _her_ sharp objects."

"That's different!" Zim stomped his foot. "Della would kill me if I even suggested it."

"Oh come off it Zim. Just get used to it. Why now, anyway? I've been growing like a weed for the last five years. Besides, you're taller than most Irkens I've seen, just shorter than a lot of humans too. Five feet is pretty good for an Irken."

Zim crossed his arms, glaring at the ground stubbornly.

Sighing, Dib plopped down on his rear in the middle of the sidewalk, resigning himself to a lost afternoon. Grabbing Zim's hand, he yanked him to a sitting position as well. "Zim, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"My foot nothing's wrong, you've been acting weird for a few weeks now, and don't think I haven't noticed." Dib poked him in the forehead, prompting a flurry of furious swats from the Irken. "You look like you haven't slept in awhile either. What are those, shopping bags under your eyes?"

Zim glared. He'd managed to learn most of the idioms of the English language at this point, but they still annoyed him. "I've been busy," he snapped.

"Doing what? Fending off the paparazzi?"

The corners of Zim's mouth pulled down further. "They're still stupid, you know. Very annoying. But at least they don't carry lasers."

"Lasers?" Dib homed in on Zim's slip. The alien winced, shifting. "And what IS bothering you that's carrying lasers?"

"None of your bee-wax."

"Zim," Dib was losing patience fast. All the signs said something had been rattling Zim, and nobody was allowed to do that on his watch. "If you don't talk, I swear I'll post photoshopped pictures of you in little girl's clothing all over the internet. And you won't be able to say it's a lie, because Tiana said it really happened. And you wouldn't like to call Tiana a liar, would you?"

Zim lashed out with a booted foot, catching Dib's shin. He yelped, clutching it as the alien glared.

"I've been getting… visitors."

Dib rubbed his shin gingerly. "What kind of visitors?"

"Bounty hunters."

Dib's eyes widened. "Bounty… but—"

"They aren't sponsored by Tallest Purple, as best as I can beat out of them." Zim rubbed his antennae tiredly. "They aren't really bounty hunters either. There isn't a bounty, just a few overzealous Irkens who think that if they bring my head back with them, then they'll be famous."

Dib's eyes strayed up to the bandage Zim wore around his forehead. Quietly, he asked, "Is it because of…" He trailed off, uncomfortably.

"Yes." Zim stated flatly. He no longer bothered with disguises, now that the Earth authorities treated him as a respected visitor, but this was the one vanity he kept. That the brand marking him as the worst traitor Irk had ever seen remained covered, no matter what. "If they can erase the only 'Mekrelmar' that ever existed in the history of Irk, then maybe they can be famous."

Dib's fist flew before Zim could react, catching him in a sharp right hook. "You idiot! How long has this been going on? And why didn't you tell me?"

Zim sprawled back for a moment, before pushing himself back up. Sourly, he responded, "It's not your fight, Dib. I can deal with them myself. I don't need your help for this."

Stung, Dib glared at him. "Did you ever think, insect brains, that I might _want_ to help you? That I, oh I don't know, _care_ that Irkens are trying to kill my best friend? What the flirk is wrong with you?"

Zim snickered a little at Dib's use of the Irken curse. Five years had done a lot to tie them together since he'd returned to Earth, and Zim hadn't been the only one to acclimate to an alien culture. Sobering, he sighed. "I didn't mean it like that, Dib." He shrugged his shoulders, mustering as close to an apology as his pride allowed. "I don't want anyone else involved. I make sure all fights happen far away from the town, and if they happen in town, I guide them away from my home."

"You mean away from your house," Dib rubbed his forehead, "Away from your sisters and your parents."

"Away from anyone who might get hurt." Zim stared hard at Dib.

"Yeah, I get it, but you're still an idiot. It's not like I didn't know what I was signing up for by being your friend, you know." Dib rotated his shoulder, where Red's spiderleg had run him through. "Look, Zim, I know you're trying to keep us safe, but you forget, it goes both ways. You're not alone anymore, you know. This isn't training. You have people who'd do anything for you, to make sure you're safe."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Zim muttered.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Look, if you want in on these stupid little fights, that's your choice. But don't you dare tell my family. Understand? Irk only knows it would set Mikko off and she'd never speak again."

Dib's expression softened a little. "Understood."

Zim shifted a little. "And Dib?"

"Yeah?"

"If you are going to help me… I guess you should know… I've been getting…"

"Getting what?"

Reaching into his pocket, Zim produced several crumpled sheets of paper. Dib took them, carefully smoothing them out. There were roughly four sketches, depicting the Irken body and its organs. A few spaces had been left in the drawings, with question marks drawn on them. Above each diagram had been drawn the symbol of the Swollen Eyeball.

Gripping the papers with both hands, Dib tore them apart, furious. "Idiots!" He exclaimed. "What's their problem? At this point, they could just ask you the answers!"

Glumly, Zim replied, "I'm still a hostile alien threat in their eyes, and nothing will change that. You should know. Some hyumans refuse to accept what they see."

Dib ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Yeah, I'll put the word out to keep a watch on any Eyeball activity." Because of his connection with Zim, Dib had been appointed Zim's official Earth guide, as well as his diplomacy aide during official government visits, as diplomacy was something the fiery Irken desperately lacked. He had also been given resources to form a protective surveillance network around Zim, to ensure his safety.

Zim glanced at the boy—no, not a boy anymore. Dib had just recently celebrated his adult year. He glanced at his friend, and dropped his gaze a little.

"That's not all that's bugging you, is it?" Dib prodded.

Pausing a moment, Zim weighed whether or not to put it into words, then gave up, realizing Dib would find some way to pester it out of him eventually.

"I miss being around my own kind." Zim's voice was uncharacteristically quiet. "They're cruel, stupid, and destructive, but they're… like me. Everywhere I go, people stare, and point, and want me to sign some stupid piece of paper, and take pictures like I'm some freak. Or they want me dead." His claws traveled up to touch the bandage. "But then, my kind want me dead too."

Dib's throat tightened a little. It was hard to see Zim like this. He knew the little alien wanted acceptance more than anything else, and that he'd found a sort of acceptance here on Earth was no small feat. But Dib knew what it was like to be ostracized by everyone around him, to be made fun of and rejected all the time. And all that wasn't even a tenth of what Zim had experienced in his life. Nobody had wanted to kill Dib, after all, or said that he never should have been born.

Scooting over, Dib gripped Zim's shoulder firmly. "Not everyone wants you dead you know." He squeezed. "Some people would, in fact, fight very hard to make sure you stay alive. I know we're not your kind, but we're still family and friends." He grinned wryly. "So maybe you can forgive us for not being Irken, right?"

Zim grinned weakly. "Yeah, maybe someday you'll be forgiven for that horrendous crime against the universe."

Dib glanced up, then back down at Zim. He released his shoulder and shoved the alien a little. "Anyway, stop moping, your sisters probably want a hug."

"They what? OOOMPH!"

Dib grinned as two girls crashed into Zim, crushing him with hugs. "Neeeeeever gets old."


	2. Makeup and Torment

**Note: **Title was changed to Danem. Reason? I went searching for the words "maneem" and "mekrelmar" on Deviantart, as I do on occasion, and happened to stumble on a glossary of sorts of Irken words. Three that I had come up with were in it! I looked for the term they picked for the meaning of the title, and found I liked it a lot more than the one I had come up with. Therefore, Danem.

…..

"Mikko, come o-o-o-on!" Tiana whined, emphasizing the last 'n'. "You never even gave it a try before."

"I don't like makeup."

"Cause you never tried it! Mom says you can't not like something if you've never tried it."

"Zim gets to," Mikko tried weakly.

"Zim's allergic, that doesn't count." Tiana huffed, crossing her arms as she kept up with her older sister.

"Why do you do makeup anyway?" Mikko picked up her pace. "You're too young."

"Thirteen is _not_ too young!" Tiana exclaimed. "But 17 _is_ too old not to have even tried it! Come on Mikko, PLEEEEEEASE?"

Mikko sighed, shoving her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. She didn't like all the changes Tiana was going through. It seemed like just yesterday she'd been toting her stuffed cat everywhere and tying her hair into pigtails. Now she was straightening her hair every day, haunting local youth designer clothing stores, and of course, wearing makeup.

_You have to admit, though, she does make friends more easily than you._

Mikko dipped her head lower. She had her reasons. The big black hoodie and baggy jeans made it easier to hide. And why would she want to wear makeup? She didn't _want_ anybody looking at her, thinking she was attractive.

She'd done her best to forget what had happened five years before. _After all,_ she would reason, _nothing really happened. So I was stripped and marched down a hall, so what?_ But the thought always came full circle to the reason she had been stripped and marched down that hall. She hadn't been too young to understand what would have happened to her, had Zim and Dib not interfered. The same thing that had happened to Mrs. Membrane.

Hiding was safer. If nobody looked at her, there wasn't any danger.

"Sorry Tiana." She mumbled. "Not gonna happen."

Tiana frowned. "Y'know you can't keep lyin' to Zim forever. He's gonna figure out you still don't have any friends. And he's gonna be mad."

"Then don't tell him." Mikko glanced to the side. "It's better, I'm sure he's got plenty of other things to worry about."

Tiana put out an arm, pulling Mikko to a stop. "You see it too?"

Mikko nodded shortly, slipping her hand into Tiana's, pulling her back into a walk. It was hard not to notice Zim waking up later every day, dragging himself to the breakfast table, and mumbling half coherent sentences until coffee was brought to him. He'd always been the one to greet the sun first in the mornings, eager to be up and doing things, but the last few months everyone could see signs of fatigue in him. Della was going out of her mind about it, but Tom had convinced her to wait until he was ready to talk about it.

They hadn't said anything to the girls though, and they were dying to know. Mikko couldn't risk prying, though. If she pried, it was possible he would pry back, and find out. But if she could get Tiana to wiggle it out of him…

"There he is!" Tiana cheered, yanking her forward.

Mikko grinned at the sight of Zim and Dib sitting on the sidewalk, waiting for them a ways off. Zim always waited for them after Skool, and sometimes Dib was there too. They were facing each other, looking very serious. Mikko's grin faded as Dib exclaimed angrily, ripping up some papers he was holding. Zim's head dipped, the expression on his face so sad.

_What is he hiding from us? Did he tell Dib?_

Well. He wouldn't be sad for long. Mikko and Tiana descended on him, crushing him with hugs as he flailed, declaring he couldn't _breathe_ and would they _please_ release him before he expired in such an undignified way?

Mikko glanced over his head at Dib, who was smirking at the scene before him. Maybe, she thought, if Tiana couldn't get it out of Zim, maybe she could crack Dib.

…..

He hung, suspended in darkness. How long had it been? Had it been minutes? Hours? Days? Decades? It was impossible to tell. It felt like lifetimes had passed. His body had contorted into a convoluted position, curled and contracted on itself in an attempt to escape the unending agony.

He let out a low moan, or at least, he thought he did. He couldn't hear anything, he couldn't even feel the vibration in his throat. Did he have a throat anymore, or had that been stripped away yet?

_If you want to know_, a sinuous voice wound through his thoughts. _Five years. They have been five wonderful years, I must say. You have provided every flavor that can be wrung from an Irken. Insanity, terror, despair. I think few can claim they've had a meal such as you._

He tried to move, to uncurl himself and escape, but the agony tripled as what was left of his body scraped along the innards of the creature that had absorbed him. He stopped moving, and the pain resumed its normal levels.

_I enjoy how you don't give up. It provides a hint of despondency every time you fail. And fail. And fail. And fail._ The voice crooned through his thoughts, fueling the madness in his head. Opening his mouth in what he thought might be a scream, he thrashed, his limbs moving in slow motion, as if fighting tar.

_I would have her see you in this state, if it would not repulse her, and renew her nightmares. If she were the type for revenge, I would tell her how much pain you're in, the hell you live through. As it is, it's better she forgets. It is too bad. Humiliation is not yet a taste I have encountered in you._

Almighty Tallest Red continued to scream, without sound, without force. But through the gibberish running rampant through his mind, the Morflar picked up one word that stopped her in her tracks, in the middle of a boss level battle. The game slipped through her fingers, and her normally squinted eyes widened.

"Maneem?"


	3. Lashing Out

**Note:** I am so excited! DO YOU KNOW WHY? Well, if you go to Youtube and type in Ayam Invader Zim, and look for the video with the big red Irken symbol, YOU WILL FIND OUT! I LOVE MY READERS SO MUCH! BlackSpots, you ROCK!

…

"Wow, he's like a trained monkey or something!" The kid stared up at Zim, hanging from the underside of a car on the hydraulic lift.

"Billy, stop staring."

Zim's antennae flattened in irritation, but he focused on the mechanical properties of the vehicle he had been assigned to.

It hadn't been too long after his return to Earth that he declared he absolutely had to have something to do, or he would build a bomb and explode the planet out of sheer boredom.

The next day, Tom had dragged him out of bed, stuck a pair of coveralls on him, and introduced him to the guys at the auto shop. He'd had to call in several favors with the owner to get Zim work there, but Tom rarely asked for anything and always gave his all. So when Tom actually asked for something he nearly always got his way.

At first, Zim had been repulsed by the sheer filth and grime involved in fixing cars. But after a week of being called a "Dandy," "Fop," and "Prissy boy," he'd dug down deep and thrown himself into the work. After all, it had become a challenge to his ability to adapt, so he greeted it head on.

It wasn't long afterward that his technical prowess with any sort of machinery won him the respect and admiration of all but a few on the team. And when word began spreading that cars came out of that shop, running smoother and faster than they'd ever run before, customers began flowing in.

Zim didn't keep many secrets to himself either, and he made sure anyone on the team who wanted to truly master the machinery in front of them was thoroughly trained.

Zim smirked. There were a few things he would keep to himself, though, like how respectful customers got the best upgrades. On the other hand, even one insult would land them an inexplicable oil leak from the steering wheel into their laps.

He shook his head. The smeet was just being a stupid, curious dirt child. He wouldn't sabotage their car for that.

A loud curse and a clang drew Zim's attention away from the car to the hydraulic lift two spaces down. A young man hurled down a broken part, gesturing angrily at Tom. Scowling, Zim kept an eye on the situation.

Eventually, even those on the team that didn't like Zim had gained a grudging respect for him, but a year ago John had joined the team. John, the owner's son, the one they couldn't fire. And he knew it too. Then he made sure everybody else knew it, every time he messed up, that he couldn't be fired. Currently, it seemed he was blaming his misfortunes on the nearest mechanic, Tom.

Zim growled as John poked his finger into Tom's chest over and over, berating him for his incompetence. Tom just stood there, a resigned expression on his face. For a second, he glanced up and caught Zim watching. The corner of his mouth lifted a little, and he raised an eyebrow, as if to say, _Can you believe this moron?_

Zim's aggression evaporated, and he chuckled. If Tom had it under control, who was he to interfere? He learned a long time ago, the big man was perfectly capable of laying people out in one swing, but chose not to. It had taken awhile to understand why he always held back, but when he understood, Zim's respect for the hyuman had rocketed sky high. He still wasn't sure if he could emulate that, being the better person and letting things like that slide, but Irk if he didn't try!

Clambering down, he released the lever that positioned the car back on the ground. Hopping inside, he started it up, satisfied with the steady rumble he heard from the engine. These were primitive vehicles, and easy to fix, but still it gave him a sense of accomplishment and pride to do his best.

_"Idiot, you're doing it wrong!" John had yanked him away from the car. "Why are you fixing everything? You always leave one or two problems so they come back!"_

Zim gritted his teeth a little at the memory. He couldn't understand why someone wouldn't want to do the best they possibly could at the task they were assigned to. He'd said so. Then John's father had stepped out of the shadows and commended Zim, gently scolding his son for that kind of thinking. He mentioned adding a bonus to Zim's paycheck. Zim almost wished he hadn't, the look on John's face disturbed him. That look, in fact, was always on John's face now, whenever he looked in Zim's direction.

Sliding out of the car, Zim turned, handing the keys to the apprehensive woman hovering nearby. "All fixed." He pulled his face into a serious expression. "Come back if you need a trained monkey to fix your car."

The woman's expression tightened anxiously, and she opened her mouth to apologize, when Billy burst out laughing. "He heard me! Wow! Can you hear really far with those?" He pointed to Zim's antennae. "Can I touch?"

Zim sighed inwardly, but crouched down. "Just be careful, okay?"

Billy reached up, but the woman jerked him back. "I'm very sorry, he's just a child, we'll pay at the front." Averting her eyes, she herded a protesting Billy into the car, pulling out of the space, and driving toward the front.

Zim squatted there a few moments, wrestling with his feelings. Anger, he could go slash her tires right now. No, that wouldn't be right. She was just scared. But why? He hadn't shown the least amount of aggression toward them, he'd even been willing to cater to the smeet's curiosity.

"Not used to being a freak yet?" John's voice cut from behind.

Slowly, Zim stood, refusing to turn around, and moved on to the next car.

"I'd think you'd be used to it by now. But I guess you're still trying to fit in. How's that feel anyway, being so freakish?"

Zim lifted the hood of the car carefully, his claws digging into the paint. He could hear Tom's heavy footsteps come up behind John, and his deep voice mentioning they needed his help down by the register.

"Sure, I'll help. Guess the alien's hiding behind his fake Daddy, huh? Coward."

Zim wasn't entirely sure when he wound up on top of John, hurling punches at his face, but it was only a few seconds before hands the size of his head lifted him off, still punching and kicking midair.

John pushed himself back, covering his nose and sputtering. "You, you'd better get your freakish kid under control Tom. My Dad's not gonna like this."

"I don't have a Danem you _idiot!_" screeched Zim furiously. "He isn't my Danem!"

There was a heavy sigh behind him, and Zim's fury dispersed long enough for him to realize what he said. Tom couldn't know what the word meant, but he wasn't an idiot. He could figure it out in context. Slowly, Zim's limbs drooped.

Tom set him down, one hand still on his shoulder. "Mac, clock the two of us out, we're taking a lunch break."

…..

Zim stared miserably at the chocolate shake and fries in front of him. What had possessed him to say such a thing? Tom had done nothing but treat him with respect and comradeship. And he had no trouble accepting Della as his Maneem, of sorts. Why did he say that?

"So." Tom's voice broke the silence. "Wanna tell me what happened back there?"

Zim ducked his head, ashamed. Even worse than what he'd said, he'd lost his temper. He had no doubt John would get security footage of it, and spread it around anonymously. Then the Swollen Eyeball would pounce on it, using it in the leaflets they left everywhere about how dangerous he was. And he hadn't been able to be the better person. Again.

"Must have touched a pretty raw nerve," Tom commented, taking a bite of his burger. "I'm gonna guess Danem means Father to you, is that right?"

"Daddy," Zim corrected, subdued. "It's less formal than Father."

"Like Maneem is Mommy." Tom sighed. "Zim, I'm gonna be straight with you, alright?"

"Straight… meaning not crooked, or honest?"

"Honest."

Zim nodded, still staring at the table.

"I was never really comfortable with the idea of being your Dad. The big reason being, I don't see that you need me to be that. The reason I can be Dad to the girls is because they need me. You needed Della, so she got to be your Mom. But you never really needed me, and that's okay, Zim. I don't have to be your Dad. If anything, I always saw you as a peer. Especially when you proved yourself at the shop over and over."

Zim lifted his head a little, blinking in surprise. Tom saw him as a peer?

"Not only that, I'm pretty proud to have you as a peer. Not many people can claim they have someone as talented as you for a friend."

Tom thought he was talented? His shoulders straightened a little.

"But whatever nerve John touched, you have to get it under control."

Zim slumped again. "I don't know what made me do that."

"I don't know either. But until you figure it out, I'll try and work it so that you and John are on different shifts. I'm sure his Dad won't mind. And expect a reprimand from him, maybe even a pay dock."

Sighing, Zim nodded. He chewed a couple of French fries, grimacing at the taste of auto shop grease that got everywhere. Hopefully this wouldn't land him in too much trouble. But Tom was right, he had to figure out why it bothered him so much.


	4. Threats in the Night

**Note: **Check out mine and CHIKARAfiction's review series on YouTube, StoryTrollers. We just ripped apart the first half of Ella Enchanted. Also, my apologies if Zim isn't quite himself right now. I quit roleplaying a few months back, and haven't written or watched Zim for awhile. I'm a little rusty on writing him. I'll watch a couple episodes tonight to get back into the Zim mindset, but for now, I just want to write.

….

Dib sighed, rubbing his forehead. He'd done his best to wipe out all security footage of Zim's little hissy fit, but already he'd found sections missing. Someone had been there before him, and he had a good idea who. The best thing he could do now was damage control over the alien's reputation, and he'd have to spin it pretty well.

"Hey Dib."

"Gah!" Dib leapt out of his chair, twisting around. Gaz stood behind him, sucking on a juice box. "Don't DO that!"

"I need a favor."

Dib blinked. "A… favor? You? From me?"

"Did I stutter?"

"Um," He ran his hand through his hair. "Okay… what do you need?"

"I need you to hack the Irken Information Network. I want to know everything there is to know about Red."

Dib frowned. "Why, what does it matter? He's… not around anymore." His eyes strayed involuntarily to her middle. He knew it was stupid, since Morflars didn't have stomachs persay, but still…

"Call it bragging rights, I wanna know about him."

Dib felt a prickle of unease. "Just who are you going to brag to? There aren't any other Morflars in town, are there?"

Gaz glared. "Dib, just get me his records, all of them, in an hour."

Dib shivered at the venom in her voice. "Yeah, okay, fine. Not like I had anything better to do, like sleep."

She smirked, and walked out of his room, slamming the door behind her.

Shaking his head, Dib turned his attention to the IIN, fingers flying across his keyboard. Whatever Gaz wanted, Gaz got. He might not be Irken, but she still managed to scare the living daylights out of him.

His door swung open, and Gaz poked her head back in. "By the way, Zim's sister is here. The quiet one. She looks mad. You might wanna see what's going on."

….

Zim crawled into bed that night, subdued and frustrated. He had most certainly been reprimanded, and the Owner was no small being. Not quite as tall as Tom, but certainly head and shoulders above Zim. The anger in his superior's voice, combined with his height had had Zim down on his knees, head bowed instinctively, in seconds.

The owner had trailed off in surprise, as Tom pulled Zim to his feet. Zim had mumbled an apology, furious at himself for a lapse like that. There were tall hyumans all over the planet, and all through his city. But still, every now and then, he felt the compulsion to acknowledge their height.

Especially if he accorded them any kind of respect.

He'd brooded all the way back to the house, brushing past Della and her offer of dinner with the excuse that he wasn't hungry. Ascending the stairs, he'd locked the door against her worry.

It was times like this that he missed GIR's crazy distraction. He didn't trust that the Eyeball would leave the robot be if they caught him, and knew they would use him as leverage against Zim. So, he'd sent him off to explore the world. "Data collection," he'd called it. GIR could be back in the city within a day if Zim called for him, but he had to be sure his crazy SIR was safe. Besides, the sight of him still set the family on edge.

He lay on his bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Maybe tonight he could sort out what had happened today, and why it bothered him so much.

_Snap._

Or maybe not.

Sighing, he swung himself into a sitting position and calculated the distance to the window as the jets in his PAK warmed up. He'd strewn the side yard below his window with as many brittle branches and dead leaves as he could without raising suspicion. It had been his alarm system for the last month and a half of recurring attacks, and had probably saved his life several times.

He paused for a second. Usually the branch snapping was much quieter. This one had been unnaturally loud, as if the intruder had picked the largest branch and purposely cracked it. Shrugging the thought off, he crossed to the window. In one smooth motion, he threw it open, sprang out, and fired his jets. He angled away from the house, heading for the forest on the edge of town. That was the best place for such things. Few people ventured there at night.

The air behind him was unnaturally silent. Usually by now there were shouts of, "Coward!" or at least the secondary thrum of his pursuer's jets. Glancing over his shoulder, he tried to catch a glimpse of his pursuer. All he could see was the glint of deep purple eyes.

For a moment, he faltered. Tak? No. Her eyes had been a lighter purple, this shade was different. It reminded him of something, but he wasn't sure what. Turning forward again, he sent extra juice to his jets. If he could reach the forest first, he could have a moment or two to establish himself and prepare.

He'd just reached the edge of the forest when he felt something grab his shirt, yanking him off course. He barely dodged a branch before crashing to the ground. Rolling with the momentum of his flight, he came up on his feet, spiderlegs extended defensively.

A short, female Irken drifted to the ground in front of him, purple eyes glinting in the moonlight. In every respect, she resembled an Irken, from her curled antennae to her PAK, but something was horribly wrong. Zim couldn't put his finger on it, but something deep in his spooch screamed for him to run.

Shaking it off, he growled. "If you're here for my head, you're wasting your time. Zim is not interested in parting with it. If you insist on trying, I assure you I'll have your spooch ripped out before you can lay a claw on me."

Before Zim ended his sentence, she had moved. His senses scrambled to catch up with what had happened as he felt her claws dig into his shoulder from behind. Lashing out with his spiderlegs, he flung her off his back, spinning to face her—only to find himself staring down thin air.

Again, behind him, a body crashing into his back, jamming his PAK painfully against his spine. He twisted, hitting the forest floor on his left side as he scrabbled to flip over.

A cold hand seized his wrist, yanking him to his feet. Zim gasped as the Irken's grip tightened, her claws sinking into his skin. He swiped at her with his free hand, but she caught it in a strong grip that belied her size.

His wrist began dripping, and he growled, "You asked for this!" A laser extended from his PAK, pointing over his shoulder and firing a shot, point blank, into the forehead of his attacker.

She did not flinch. She did not blink. The bolt disappeared into her head without leaving a trace, and crashed into the tree behind her.

_Her jets never made a sound, but somehow she kept up with me._

Understanding hit him like a Megadoomer's destruction ray and he opened his mouth to scream. A dark flare wrapped around his mouth, muffling him.

"It took you long enough. Irkens really are idiots."

The Irken's form shifted, morphing into a much more familiar form. Purple hair hung over a squinty-eyed face, one eye opening with irritation. "You know, it would really help if you stopped half-fainting whenever I came around, then I wouldn't have to lure you out in the middle of the night and would you _stop_ _screaming!_ Being afraid of me just makes you smell good, so knock it off!" With that, Gaz shoved him hard onto his rear, releasing him.

Zim scrabbled backward until he hit a tree, eyes wide and fixed on Gaz. Of course, everything she said was true, being afraid of her only made things worse for him in every conceivable way, but he couldn't help it. He knew the scary façade she put up was nothing compared to her true nature as a Morflar, and every prey instinct he had screamed to life on sight of her.

She crossed her arms, stalking over and leaning on a nearby tree. "So. Now that I finally have your attention, we have to talk."

Zim hazarded a glance down at his wrist, which had begun to sting and crawl with pain. Engraved in his arm was the outline of a three-clawed grip where no skin was left. He felt his stomach turn.

"Did you just _eat_ the skin off my arm?" He demanded.

"I suppose you could put it that way," she raised an eyebrow. "I needed a sample."

Zim couldn't help the nervous laugh that escaped him. "What for? Are you taste testing me for when you're finished with Red?"

Gaz glowered at him. "Are you calling me a liar, Zim? I promised I wouldn't eat you because you helped Mom."

"THEN WHAT WAS ALL THIS FOR?" He flailed. "You drag me out here in the middle of the night—"

"You ran away." She corrected.

"-And proceed to beat me in hand to hand combat, show off your shifting skills, eat my skin, and tell me… what exactly?!"

She eyed him for awhile, as if weighing what she was about to say.

"You need to leave."

Zim paused, blinking. "What?"

"Do you care about your family?"

He frowned. "Yes, what does that have to do with—"

"You know the Swollen Eyeball is monitoring you."

"Of course I do. Zim is not stupid, but they haven't attacked or done anything idiotic for awhile, except for those annoying pamphlets."

"Yeah, and what's been happening recently that might give them an extra reason to want to bring you in?"

Zim started. "Have you been watching?"

"No, genius, but I can smell any Irken in a 30 mile radius, and yours isn't the only scent around for the last couple months. I can figure things out myself."

"So I'm being attacked, why does that mean I have to leave? And what does it have to do with the familial unit of Zim?"

She shook her head. "You really are dense, aren't you? Everyone and their mother's uncle knows who your family is, and how much they matter to you. They also know who your best friend is, and how much he matters to you."

Comprehension began dawning on Zim, even as Gaz continued.

"So tell me, great Invader, with your amazing Invader deducing skills, what do you think will happen now that Irkens are coming to kill you? The Swollen Eyeball sees their chance at getting their hands on you slipping away with each attack, and they start to get desperate. They pick up your Mom, one of your sisters or," and her face turned dark, "My brother, and say that if you don't come get them, they're done for."

Shaken, Zim stammered, "It it it doesn't have to be Zim, the next Irken that comes for me, I'll personally present-wrap for the Swollen Eyeball."

"They don't want any other Irkens Zim."

"How do you know that?" He snapped. "They just want an alien to pull apart!"

Gaz's lips pulled into a thin, tight line. "Dib doesn't know just how good my senses are, or he'd be a lot quieter, but Darkbooty still calls him. At least once a week they get into a huge shouting match, Darkbooty about how you brainwashed the Swollen Eyeball's brightest prospect, Dib, and Dib about how he's not brainwashed, they're just stubborn and scared."

A sick feeling settled in Zim's spooch. If Darkbooty, head of the Swollen Eyeball, felt he had a personal score to settle with Zim, then Gaz was right. He'd only settle for Zim, not any other Irken.

Gaz stood up from her slouched position and walked over to Zim. The Irken tensed, pressing back against the tree and sinking closer to the ground as she leaned over him.

"He may be an idiot, but he's part of my family. You found yours, that's great. Then you know just how important a family can be to someone who doesn't have one." The temperature dropped as her eyes glowed red. "If anything happens to him, I will personally make your life a living hell. And if anything happens to your sisters, your life will become a living hell all by itself. Which is why, Zim, you need to leave before that happens."

Zim rolled away from her, scrambling to his feet and taking off toward the city. His breath came in gasps as he pushed his legs faster and faster. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could outrun the thoughts Gaz had planted in his head.

…

Gaz looked after Zim's retreating form, and a twinge of regret twisted in her. It wasn't his fault, but if her Mom found out, it could undo all the progress she'd made in overcoming what happened.

And if Zim found out… well, he just wouldn't. She'd make sure he left before that happened.


	5. Sit In Sister

Dib shifted a little in his seat, confused. He'd gone downstairs to greet Mikko, and tell her she could wait in the living room while he got Gaz's information, after which he'd be happy to talk to her. Instead of waiting, she'd followed him up the stairs, into his room, and seated herself cross-legged on the ground.

He'd gathered all the data he'd needed, then sent it off to Gaz's computer. He'd barely turned to face Mikko before he heard Gaz's door open and close, and her footsteps heading downstairs. Finally, though, he was able to give Mikko his full attention.

"Hey, sorry about the wait. You know Gaz, she gets what she wants and she gets it _now_. What's up?"

Mikko's eyes were unusually narrowed, and her mouth pressed into a thin, tight line. She stared at him as minutes passed by in increasingly uncomfortable silence. Dib forced a grin. "Have you been taking intimidation lessons from my sister?"

Silence.

Dib's grin faded. What was her game? Why did she come her and plant herself in his room just to stare at him angrily? "Seriously, Mikko, what's going on?"

She held the stare for a little while longer, before demanding, "I want you to tell me what's going on with Zim."

Dib groaned inwardly. He should have known Zim's family would suspect something too. But Zim had made him promise not to tell his family, especially Mikko, and for good reason. Mikko hadn't seen another Irken aside from Zim since she'd been rescued from the Massive, and everyone hoped to keep it that way. If she even knew there were hostile Irkens nearby, attacking their house every few weeks, who knew how she'd react?

He opened his mouth to brush off her worries with some excuse, when she stood from the floor in one smooth motion, fists clenched, eyes dark. "Don't you dare even think about lying to me, Dib Membrane, you tell me what's wrong with Zim! He's my brother, the only brother I have, and he's very important to me. I deserve to know what's making him act this way!"

Dib blinked. He fished again for a decent excuse, opening his mouth to tell her—

_SLAP._

Dib's head swung aside, his glasses askew.

"Don't. Lie. To. Me."

Boggled, Dib turned his head back, adjusting his glasses. "I didn't say anything."

"You were going to!" She pointed at him, accusatorily. "I could see it all over your face, you were going to say whatever you had to say to make me think everything's okay. Well it's not going to work. I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me what's going on, and if you think I'm joking, you… you…. You can just think again!"

Irritated, Dib rubbed the side of his face. "Yeah, well, great. As interesting as it is being slapped by an uninvited guest, I think I'll just pass on that. I don't have anything to tell you, go home Mikko." He turned around, back to his computer, glaring at the screen.

Behind him, he heard a _whump_, which sounded suspiciously like Mikko sitting back down on the floor. He sighed.

_This is going to be a long night._

…..

Zim didn't know how long he was running, or even in what direction. When his panic cleared, and his senses returned to him, he found himself in front of the Membrane household.

_Why did I come here? This is the first place that hideous Gaz-beast will return!_

He wanted to see Dib, and he wanted to see him now. He had to talk to him, figure out what the best plan was. The hyuman had to have some kind of idea of what to do. Maybe there was another way he could be a part of his own family without endangering them.

Raising a gloved hand, he knocked on the door.

The door opened to reveal a slender figure, with floor-length purple hair, and a smile on her lips. Her mouth opened partway in greeting before the identity of the visitor registered. The greeting died on her lips, and she froze there in the doorway.

Zim dipped his head, drilling the front step with his stare. "Greetings Mrs. Membrane. Is the Dib-unit-of-filth available?"

"N-no, he's… busy… upstairs."

Zim drooped a little, the silence stretching out.

"Um. Well. Zim is already here… I can… adjust your optical implants."

Hesitating, Gloria moved back, allowing Zim entry. The Irken slunk in, moving over to the kitchen table. That's where they usually sat. He pulled out a chair, still not looking at her, as she seated herself. This is the way it always went. As long as they didn't look at each other, everything was fine.

He waited for her to remove them. He'd tried taking them out himself before, and she'd run out of the room. After that, he'd walked her through the process of removing the artificial eyes he'd created for her so that he could provide their monthly adjustment and tune-up.

Two clicks sounded as she set the eyes down on the table, and removed her hands, folding them tightly in her lap. Zim retrieved the eyes and pulled out the tools from his PAK, getting to work.

_Why am I still doing this?_

If he was honest with himself, this monthly ritual was completely unnecessary. The implants would function at the level of normal hyuman vision for at least 20 years without his tinkering. And yet he continued to come, fine-tuning the night vision, enhancing the focus, unlocking the color spectrum codes with painstaking care. Irk, he had decided, owed this hyuman an unpayable debt for what it did to her. He could perform this much in reparation.

"How are the color changes?" He mumbled, twisting something.

"A little mixed up," she replied quietly. "The grass has been orange, and my carrots are green."

"Apologies," Zim sighed. "Zim no longer has access to the coding database of the Empire's best, it is all from memory now."

No response. The grip on his tools tightened. Every month it was like this. Why did she still—no. He didn't need to ask why. It wasn't just the Irken Empire that owed her. He was sure the memory of him ordering her infant torn from her arms burned fresh in her mind every time she saw him. He was a monster, not to be trusted. Just like Tallest Red.

"I'm not Red," He growled.

Her voice caught as she stammered, "Wh-what?"

"Nothing," Zim covered hastily, "Zim merely has picked up the disturbing habit of the Dib-smell, you know, talking to himself all the time. I said I've programmed in a few shades of red. I think you may also be able to see phlermidion now."

"Phlermidion?" She sounded bewildered.

"It's a sentient shade of the color yellow. It's all around your planet, you just can't see it that well, it's generally mistaken for a shadow at the corner of your vision. It's very playful." _Might return some laughter to you and make the Dib happy, and keep the Gaz away from me._

Lifting up the eyes, he inspected them carefully. Phlermidion was one of the more difficult things to program into optical implants, he hoped he'd gotten it right. The last thing he needed was a mistake that would frighten her.

Setting them down in front of her, he withdrew his hands. She felt around in front of her for them, scooping them up and replacing them in her sockets.

For a moment, there was silence as she adjusted to the tune-up, and Zim waited for the emotionless "Thank you" which truly meant "Please leave now."

It didn't come.

Zim frowned. She'd usually prompted him to leave by this point. Did she have something to say? Maybe she wasn't adjusting well to the coding. Risking a breach of their unspoken understanding, he lifted his head to glance at her.

Her eyes were fixed on him, the irises whirling as they collected data, transmitting it to the optical centers of her brain. She shrank back against her chair, mouth open, eyes fixed on him.

Alarmed, Zim left his seat, moving closer. "Mrs. Mem—"

"Get away!" She yelled, tumbling backwards out of her seat.

He paused, confused.

"Get out!" She shrieked, her voice rising as she jabbed her index finger at him. "Out! Now! You… you…"

Zim turned and dove for the door. He didn't want to hear the last word. He didn't want to hear what he already knew she thought of him.

_But she never said it before, what did I do?_

"Monster!" The word shrieked out after him, hitting him partway to the gate. He closed his eyes, turning and barreling down the street back toward his own home.

_Mekrelmar on Irk. Monster on Earth_. He could feel his throat closing up. _Is there anywhere I won't be freakish and alone?_


	6. Comfort Sister

Gaz noted Zim pelting away from the Membrane house to the shrieks of her mother with no small amount of fury. What had she just told him? Was he _that_ stupid? Ignoring him, she hurried into the house. The sight of her mother on the floor, curled up in the corner only added to her rage, but she set it aside to deal with later. Kneeling down by her, she gently worked her way under Gloria's arm. Often, she had noted, having something smaller than herself to hold seemed to calm the woman down somewhat. It probably had to do with the multiple children she had borne, but never been allowed to keep.

Sure enough, Gloria's arms wound tightly around Gaz, and she subsided into quiet weeping. Gingerly, Gaz reached for her thoughts. Though not as experienced without the guidance of her own kind, she was able to recover surface thoughts through physical contact.

What she found nearly made her lose her shape.

_The idiot programmed the wrong code into her eyes, now she knows._

She had to get away from the house before she started destroying things. Gently disentangling herself from Gloria, she mumbled something about using the restroom, and walked upstairs. As soon as she was out of sight, though, the edges of her body blurred, shifting into a dark shadow. She slid through the wall, dropping outside, and turned her gaze toward Zim's household.

….

Zim's vision was blurring, and it was difficult to see the front door's lock well enough to fit the key inside. He fumbled with it for a good five minutes before the door swung inward. Cringing, he prepared himself to face the wrath of Della.

"Zim? Why're you up?"

He glanced up, relieved to see Tiana standing there, dressed in a pink terrycloth bathrobe.

"Hello, um, smeet, Zim was just, um, out. For a walk. Yes. Wonderful walk." Zim nodded fiercely.

Tiana looked at him uncertainly, then reached up and wiped something away from his eye.

Zim muttered a curse, scrubbing his face. When had he turned into such a weakling?

He felt Tiana tugging on his sleeve, and dropped his arm.

"You want some cocoa Zim? I can't sleep, so I was making some."

Zim nodded silently, stepping inside. As long as it was made with milk and not water, he'd actually found the concoction to be rather soothing. And if Tiana was already making it, well, no reason not to indulge.

He followed her into the kitchen, where she checked the temperature of the milk, then poured the steaming liquid into two mugs, dumping in liberal amounts of chocolate mix, and stirring thoroughly. Turning, she handed one to Zim, and took another for herself. She tilted her head toward the living room, and walked in, seating herself on the couch. Wordlessly, Zim followed, sitting beside her.

They sipped in contented silence for a bit. Zim broke the silence first.

"So. You couldn't sleep because…?"

She shrugged. "Y'know. I still get weird dreams sometimes. Not as bad as Mikko, but every now and then. Takes awhile to go back to sleep." She poked him in the side. "Your turn. Why're you out so late?"

Zim took a long drink from his mug, licking his lips as he thought. "I… had to clear my head." He hoped that would be enough.

"Yeah, Daddy said you kinda snapped today."

Zim sighed, antennae lowering.

Tiana reached up, gently running her hand over the tops of his antennae. His eyes half-closed as his muscles relaxed. If anyone but his sisters tried that, they would have lost their hand in a heartbeat.

"It's okay, Zim." She said quietly, stroking his antennae. "Just gotta ignore the jerks, and listen to the people who like you."

Zim's eyes closed tightly. He reached up, taking her hand in his own and bringing it back down. "Tiana," he replied thickly, "you do realize that the people who like me on this planet number five? You, Mikko, Della, Tom, and the Dib? Nobody else on this planet really 'likes' Zim."

"Six. You forgot GIR."

Zim allowed a weak grin. "And GIR." His smile faded. "It gets really… really hard to ignore everybody who either hates Zim, or thinks I am a freak."

Her hand tightened around his. She looked up at him sadly. "I'm sorry Zim. I really am. I'd be Irken too if it wouldn't make you feel so alone, but I can't."

Zim's heart twisted painfully. Even after all this time, family was such a confusing thing. How could some creature that wasn't even of his kind care more for him than his own leaders ever did? And yet, in the middle of the pain was a warm feeling. It was painful and joyous at the same time, and it made his vision all blurry again.

He felt her arms wrapping around his chest as she hugged him tightly. Carefully setting his mug down, he reciprocated the hug, hiding his face in her hair so she wouldn't see the leakage running down his face.

"It's okay Zim, we'll take care of you. Promise. You just gotta let us know what we can do to take care of you. And help."

Zim's shoulders slumped. Of course. It was only a matter of time before they tried to wriggle out of him what was going on. Gingerly, he pulled away from her, wiping his face. "And where might Mikko be at the moment?"

Tiana blinked. "She went to Dib's, to get help with homework."

Zim sighed. Mikko was probably drilling Dib for information as they spoke, and Tiana was trying to get it out of him. Not that she didn't mean every word she'd said, he knew she did, but neither would rest until they knew exactly what was going on.

_Gaz was right._

_Of course I was._

Zim's head jerked back and he bolted to his feet as a shadow in the corner opened red, triangular eyes, staring at him in cold fury.

"T-Tiana," He stammered. "Go to your room."

Tiana glared, pushing herself to her feet and standing next to Zim, arms crossed.

_That's alright Zim, I don't mind upsetting a member of your family, after all, you just upset a member of mine._

"Leave her out of this!" Zim hissed, fists clenched. "Whatever you have to say or do can be said away from the house."

"Gaz, if he did something, he didn't mean it, you know Zim, he does things and he doesn't mean it, says things sometimes he doesn't mean too." Tiana grabbed Zim's arm protectively.

_Can't stand up for yourself anymore, Zim? Have to hide behind little Earth girls?_

Zim growled a little, shaking free of Tiana's grip. His initial fear was giving way to irritation. What was the meaning of all this? "I'm going outside, if you want to talk, we can talk there." He turned to march toward the door, then froze as a dark flare looped around his waist, restraining him.

_No, Zim. We're talking here. And now. And she can just watch and listen._

Zim gulped, averting his eyes from the tendril wrapped around his waist. He had to look at something else, anything else. The clock on the wall, that would work. Anything other than the dark shadow anchoring him in place.

_You are going to leave, Zim. You are going to leave tonight. My Mother has just found out exactly who you are related to, and if she figures out the other part of it, she is going to fall apart completely. You are going to leave this city, and I don't care how you do it, or where you go. But you are going to leave._

Zim's eyes narrowed. "No. I'm not."

The flare turned him around to face Gaz. She no longer looked like a scary little girl. Now she flickered at eye-level, a dark shadow with red eyes that stared into his mind.

_Yes. You are. Son of Red._

Zim snapped back, "No, I'm NOT. I'm staying here, and if that's a problem with Mrs. Membrane, then she will have to learn to deal with—what?"

Gaz' eyes narrowed as she shoved her face closer to Zim's. _You programmed hereditary recognition into her eyes you MORON!_

…..

**Note: **If I haven't already said this, let me mention that I always do my absolute darndest to avoid Mary Sues, which I know is REALLY hard when you bring in OC's. So I need you all to do me a huge favor. I want you all to bring out your Sue-spotting eyes and tell me if I start heading in that direction with Mikko and Tiana, kay? I'm trying hard, but sometimes, as the writer, I can't tell.


	7. Disgorging the Past

_Danem_.

The word roared through his mind like a Hogulus herd, demolishing every other thought in its wake.

_Danem_.

Not an adoptive parent. A biological parent. Not only that, a Tallest as a biological parent.

"But... how?" He muttered, dazed. "I was hatched. Incubated and hatched by a cold unfeeling robot arm. I remember..."

A dark flare wrapped around the top of his head, and he gasped as someone else's memories poured into his head.

_A guard hissed, clutching his face in pain with one hand, the other carefully balancing a newborn, wailing smeet. "She almost got away, My Tallest, but we managed to contain her in a higher security enclosure." He winced, pulling his hand away, revealing a nasty set of scratches running down his face. "Vicious little gorblank, you should get rid of her. The others are more docile."_

_Tallest Red smirked. "She will be docile. I'm not finished with her yet."_

_The Guard lifted the smeet, barely the size of his hand. "What do you want done with this one? To the labs, like the others?"_

_Tallest Red leaned forward, inspecting the smeet. Aside from being abnormally small, it was the most Irken appearing smeet the specimen had produced thus far. The only defects appeared to be an extra toe on each foot, and an extra claw on each hand._

_He pondered a moment. "Have we completed the Time-Object Displacement technology?"_

_"Yes, My Tallest. It only awaits testing."_

_Red waved his hand dismissively. "Throw this thing through it. See if it survives." He glanced at the extra digits, curling a lip in disgust. "Get rid of those, clip them off. They make me sick to look at."_

_"Yes, my Tallest."_

…_.._

Something was stirring around him. He could feel thoughts being pulled from his mind and poured into someone else's. They had to help. Maybe they could free him, whoever they were. He didn't care if a Devorrah saved him at this point, he just wanted an end to the pain.

Mustering up as much coherent thought as he could, he channeled his thoughts into the current he could feel leaving his mind.

…..

Zim sank to the ground, eyes wide and fixed on nothing, as the flare receded from his head.

_Tallest Red did not bother to oversee the experiment, but you can guess the result. You were most likely found on the floor of a smeetery a century before you were born. Everyone assumed a mistake had been made, and inserted you into a hatching pod like every other smeet._

His mouth opened and closed several times, before he finally managed. "You... knew... how?"

_I decided to research him. For bragging rights._ Her eyes darted away briefly.

Anger curled in Zim's middle. "You… you have nobody to brag to. You're lying."

Gaz turned back to him, darkly. "I could have someone to brag to eventually."

Zim stared at her, then turned to Tiana. "Go to your room, smeet."

Tiana looked back and forth between Gaz and Zim, shaken by what she'd seen and heard. Even without observing what passed through Zim's mind, she could tell whatever it was had upset him deeply.

"Zim—"

"Now!" He barked. "I will speak with the Gaz-BEAST alone."

Tiana ducked her head and darted up the stairs. Zim turned to Gaz, a harsh light glinting in his eyes, and grabbed a handful of shadow.

Gaz blinked, a little surprised, as Zim began walking toward the door. The flare around his waist could have easily held him in place, but with the force Zim was pulling, it would have severed him in half if she didn't keep up. Picturing Dib's reaction if such a thing happened, she grimly followed Zim outside, allowing the illusion of being dragged.

He wheeled on her, grating out, "You will release Tallest Red. Now."

Gaz stared at him, incredulous. _You have to be joking._

Zim's eyes burned as he shouted, "This is not a joke! You are going to release Tallest Red, and you are going to release him now!"

Gaz stretched up over him, staring down on him from a height advantage of several feet. _Are you asking to trade places with him, Zim? Because if I didn't know better, it sounds like you're walking up to a Morflar and demanding a release without a backup meal. Not only that, you're asking me to release the monster that turned my mother's life into a living hell. If I were any other Morflar, I would absorb you just for your _arrogance_!_

Zim tilted his head back, glaring up at Gaz. "But you won't, because you made a promise."

Gaz shrank back down, pulling herself together into a form._ There are plenty of other ways to make your life a living nightmare._ The shadows coalesced into a small Irken, pitch black and wavery. A huge, white toothy grin appeared on the face. Then one on the stomach. Another on the arm, and a third on the shoulder. The mouths continued appearing, each one opening and closing with a sickening click of enamel, a few of them lashing a tongue out and around the edges, licking the teeth, as the form advanced on Zim.

Zim swallowed hard, taking a step back. "You won't. You made a promise."

_I did, but they didn't._ She held out a fist, clutching a shiny metal instrument. Zim fell back on his rear, eyes wide as his eyes locked onto the scalpel she clutched. _I don't have to absorb you to drag you straight to their headquarters. You know who._

Something inside Zim snapped. He shoved himself to his feet, drew himself up as tall as he could, and jabbed a claw at the menacing form.

"You think Red is a monster? That's what you think? Well I have news for you, LITTLE GAZ. At some point, you had Morflar parents, and do you know what? THEY'RE MONSTERS!"

Dark flares slammed Zim to the ground, pinning him there. But even from the ground, Zim roared, "Every last rotten Morflar is a monster! It's not bad enough that you have to drive us to insanity before eating us, no, you have to have a digestive system that lasts a hundred years! A hundred years of agonizing pain! There isn't a being in the universe that drives fear into the heart of an Irken like YOU! You think what happened to Mrs. Membrane is bad? IT'S NOTHING COMPARED TO WHAT YOU ARE DOING TO MY DANEM RIGHT NOW!"

_Don't you DARE_ she hissed, bending over him, _compare what happened to my mother to your FATHER_. She spat the last word like a curse._ He CAUSED pain, he DESERVES this, she never did anything to deserve what happened!_

Zim lashed out with his claws, snarling, "YOU KNOW BETTER! I SAW WHAT HAPPENED!"

Gaz faltered a moment. _I don't know what you're talking about._

"You didn't just research Tallest Red, you looked into his thoughts, didn't you? That's where those memories came from. You saw more, didn't you?"

Her eyes narrowed. _How would you know?_

Zim bared his teeth. "He said 'Maneem'. I _heard_ him! And then I saw, I think he showed me, right before you let go!"

Gaz released him, withdrawing. _It doesn't matter. He still chose to do the horrible things he did._

Zim struggled to his feet. "As much as I chose to annihilate half my planet! He was insane, Gaz! How could he NOT be after what happened? You saw it! You had to! That's why you went digging into his records, wasn't it? You saw what happened to him!" He began striding toward her, then paused, noting her stooped posture, the eyes staring at the ground. "And you know, don't you? You know he hasn't had a clear mind in ages… and you feel about it."

_Shut up._

Zim threw back his head, laughing. "I swear, if Irk ever took over this planet, the hyumans would have every last Irken wrapped around their little fingers in ten years. If they can raise a _Morflar_ to feel emotion to the point where they experience guilt over a meal choice, they can do anything."

Gaz stared down at the ground, hunching over. _And IF I did release him. What do you think you would do? What purpose would you have with him?_

Zim opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Why did he want Tallest Red back?

Gaz glanced up, searching Zim's face. Her eyes softened slightly. _Retrieving him won't fix what he did to you either._

Zim swallowed hard, his mind reeling back to the worst moment of his life, when the Tallests revealed his exile to him.

Shutting his eyes, he squared his jaw. "What purpose I have with him will be none of your concern if I leave town. That is my price, Gaz-beast. If you want Zim to leave town, you will release Tallest Red into my custody."

Her eyes hardened again. She shifted slightly. _If I see either of you anywhere near this city again, I will absorb one of you, and leave the other to the Swollen Eyeball._ With that, she gave a great shudder, parting in the middle and allowing a green mass to spill out onto the ground.

Zim nearly retched at the sight before him. Even knowing Red had been dissolving for five years did not prepare him for the quivering mass of raw Irken flesh lying broken on the grass.

Gaz brushed past Zim, plucking at something from his PAK. He whirled around, defensive, but she merely held up a small dot. _Dib's tracking. He won't find you now. Now disappear, and take your monster with you._

Zim swallowed, nodding. He turned to Red, then paused. Turning his head toward the house, he glanced toward the upper windows. He could barely see a gap in the pink curtains, held back by a hand. His spooch twisted. _I'm sorry smeet._

The mass on the ground moaned, and Zim jerked his attention back to Red. It would only be a matter of time before he started screaming, and Zim had to get him far away before that happened. Trying not to gag, he grabbed the part that seemed the most intact, and fired up his jets. As he rose into the air, he sent out a distress signal to GIR. He was going to need all the help he could get.


	8. A Step Behind

**Note: **Happy New Year! As my New Year's resolution, I vow to be nicer to my story characters.

….

_Click._

Dib stared at the ceiling. Really, it was more of a glare than a stare. She was still there, sitting cross-legged in the middle of his floor. He'd had to change into sleepwear in the _bathroom _for heaven's sake! And now he lay in bed, glaring at the ceiling, wishing he could get to Zim and tell him to take his crazy sister away.

_Click._

That would, of course, be much easier if she hadn't snatched the device that allowed tracking and communication with Zim's PAK as soon as he brought it out.

_Click_.

If that wasn't bad enough, she'd found an old set of worrystones he kept lying around, and every two minutes, clicked them together just loudly enough to keep him awake.

_Click._

He bolted up, shouting, "Would you get off it already? If Zim doesn't want to tell you, there's a reason! And if he's not telling you, I'm not telling you, so lay off already!"

_Click._

He groaned, flopping backwards. "Mikko, come on, it's 2:50. I have to be up tomorrow, and so do you. Aren't you going to Skool?"

"Yes. I am. With you."

Dib blinked. "You're not in my grade."

"I told you I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me. I'm not kidding."

Dismissing the idea that she was bluffing—she obviously meant what she said or she would have left by now—he started trying to think of ways around the situation that might still satisfy her, until a scream from downstairs brought him fully out of bed.

Startled, Mikko dropped the stones and scrambled to her feet. Dib hurried downstairs, Mikko close behind. He could have sworn he saw a shadow move in the hall, but he wasn't interested. Rounding the stairwell, he came into the dining room to see his Mom, curled up in the corner, crying.

She hadn't had a really bad episode in a long time. Every now and then, Dib would wake up, hearing her night-time terrors, but with his Dad home so often now, it didn't take long for his Mom to calm down. The terrors were getting fewer and farther apart, but this wasn't a night terror.

He knelt down by her, struck by how small she appeared when frightened. He'd gained a few inches on her, but it was still strange to be looking down to see his Mom.

"Mom, hey, Mom!" He took her hands, wound tightly around her knees like she was defending against something. "Mom, it's me, Dib, what's going on?"

Her body shook, and she buried her head farther into her arms, clenching her hold tighter.

Dib scooted in close beside her, wrapping a gangly arm around her shoulders, and another around the knees she held so tightly. She leaned against him, turning to hide her face in his chest. He stroked her hair gently, whispering, "It's okay Mom, I'm here. Gaz is here too, somewhere, and Dad will be home in a second." Turning his head to Mikko, he mouthed, _Call my Dad NOW._ He was grateful that she had the sense to leave off her shadowing tactics long enough to run for the phone.

"Red," she sobbed, her grip leaving her knees and transferring to Dib's shirt. "Red. His eyes, all Red."

Grimacing, Dib responded carefully, "Yes. I know. His eyes were red." She hadn't spoken of what happened in years, what had shaken her so badly?

She shook her head. "No, no, not Red. His eyes, Red!"

Confused, Dib tilted his head. "Mom, I don't understand."

She twisted his shirt in her hands as she railed, "His eyes were Red, the same eyes, they match… it was a perfect match… the face, the teeth… all the same… he's the son of that monster…" She gasped like a fish out of water, her fingernails tearing through Dib's shirt and digging back into her own palms. "And he's one of them… he's one of the ones they took away. They took him away… they took…" Her eyes rolled back, and she went limp.

Stunned, Dib reached down, putting her arm over his shoulder, and carefully lifting her. He brought her over to the couch, laying her back. Walking over to the wall, he pressed his hand against the space just to the left of a lightswitch that never worked, and slid a small square of the wall aside. Punching commands into the computer located there, he called up security footage of the last thirty minutes. A screen lowered from the ceiling, displaying the security film.

Zim sat at the dining room table with his Mom, fixing her eyes. Dib always pretended he didn't know what was going on for Zim's sake. The Irken felt he had to repay some kind of debt to his Mom for what happened. Dib thought it was silly, Zim had done more than enough already by orchestrating a rescue, but he wouldn't crush what was left of the Irken's pride by saying so.

Zim handed the eyes back. His Mom replaced them, then stared at Zim. Suddenly, she began screaming, telling him to get out. Zim bolted for the door. Shortly after, Gaz had come in, nestling next to their Mom for only a minute, before she disengaged. Her eyes were glowing a disturbing shade of red as she headed for the stairwell. _The shadow I saw moving?_ Dib's eyes widened.

Professor Membrane burst through the door, scanning the room for his wife. He bolted over to the couch, carefully cradling her as he tried to wake her.

Without a word, Dib turned and ran for the door.

"Where are you going?" Mikko panted behind him.

"Gaz is going Morflar, Zim did something to upset Mom. I gotta get over there!"

"Where?"

"Where do you think Zim would go? Back to your house!"

Mikko pumped her legs harder, trying to keep up with Dib's long-legged pace. By the time they reached her house, she could barely breathe. Dib rushed up to the door and, finding it open, rushed inside. Tiana huddled on the couch, her face buried in a pillow. Dib started past her toward the stairs.

"He's gone."

Dib's chest constricted as he stopped.

"He and Gaz yelled on the lawn, then she threw up and Zim left."

Turning on Mikko, Dib grabbed her by the shoulder. "The communicator. Give it to me. Give it to me now!"

Fumbling for it, she yanked it from her pocket and thrust it into his hands. He switched it on, scanning for any sign of Zim.

The communicator crackled with static, the screen displaying only a blank outline of a map, with no Irken symbol on it to mark Zim's location.

Tiana looked at Mikko, tears running down her cheeks. "Zim left us again."

…

Zim managed to get Red to the edge of the forest before his moaning developed into full-on screams. Still, Zim didn't stop. Red would easily be heard from this proximity to the town. He continued into the forest for a mile or two, before laying him down.

Turning Red onto his side, Zim extended wires from his PAK. He hesitated a moment. Connecting with a Tallest's PAK was not only treason, but nearly impossible. The firewalls guarding their data were only a step below that of the protection surrounding the Control Brains.

_I can't even program Phlermidion into a pair of mechanical eyes properly, _he groaned to himself.

Red's slow thrashing snapped him out of it.

_Stop being a smeet. Zim never used to hesitate, and things always worked out for me in the end._

Grimly, he plunged his wires into Tallest Red's PAK.

**ACCESS DENIED.**

A virulent code invaded his consciousness, attaching to his own PAK. It seized the part that connected to his nervous system, shooting electricity through the nerves. Zim twitched, flailing to the ground as he reached through for another attempt.

**ACCESS DENIED.**

This time, his limbs locked up, rendering him completely immobile. Worse, he could feel the code working its way toward the centers that kept his heart, spooch, and brain functioning. He sent a burst of scattered, frantic responses to the code.

**REQUESTING EMERGENCY ACCESS TO TALLEST PAK FOR MEDICAL REASONS.**

The code paused, sifting through his information.

**ACCESS DENIED. NO MEDICAL SKILLS DETECTED. NO IDENTITY DETECTED.**

Zim swallowed down the bile in his throat. They really had followed up on their promise to erase his existence from Irken history. Even another Irken's PAK couldn't detect who he was. Viciously, he sent back, **THERE IS NO ONE NEARBY WITH MEDICAL SKILLS. PROBE THE SURROUNDING AREA.**

The code held him firmly in its grip as it sent out requests for information, PAK tracking, and medical assistance. Finding no other Irken nearby, and assessing the state of the body it was attached to, it relinquished its hold on Zim's limbs.

**ACCESS GRANTED. TERMINATION OF TALLEST WILL RESULT IN TERMINATION OF ALL LIFE WITHININ 5.2 MILES.**

"No pressure." Zim muttered, rubbing his head. He relaxed on the ground. All the work had to be done through PAK connection, so there was no need for him to be up. He checked the PAK supply of nanobots—nearly depleted. Not surprising. The PAK would have sensed the situation it was in and sent out the minimal number needed to encourage cell regeneration, conserving its resources in survival mode. Zim sent over a generous amount, assigning each troop tasks. One to block the pain centers in the brain, one to begin converting resources into nanobots as soon as Zim supplied them, and one to continue with cell regeneration and structure.

That done, he sat up, grabbing nearby twigs, branches, and pinecones. Flipping open Red's PAK, he began slowly lowering these in, piece by piece. He never ceased to marvel at the ingenuities of the Irken PAK. Existing nanobots could take any resource given to them, break it down to the molecular level, and produce more nanobots to heal the body.

After he'd ensured a sufficient supply of resources to last, he began looking around. He hadn't kept track of time, but he knew it was late. His first altercation with Gaz had occurred around midnight. He glanced down at his wrist, still stripped of skin.

"Needed a sample." He shook his head. "She had to match it up against Red to be sure."

Then he'd run to the Membrane household, probably about one in the morning. Tuning Mrs. Membrane's eyes had taken at least two hours, so he'd left at three. There'd been hardly any time between his arrival home and his departure, but it had taken awhile to get here, so it was probably five or six in the morning.

He rubbed his eyes. In an hour or so, Tom would wake up, and knock on his door so they could eat and go to work. He'd wonder where Zim was. Della would get worried. Mikko would be frantic. Tiana… she would probably tell them. He drew his knees up to his chest, crossing his arms over them. He would have to lay very, very low. Once word got out, there'd be a hunt for him. It wouldn't be a malicious hunt, for the most part, but the government liked to keep an eye on him. He didn't blame them. If his society accepted any kind of political refugee, he was sure they'd be under strict surveillance too.

_Dib._

He lowered his head, resting his forehead against his arms. Dib would be furious. He'd think Zim wasn't trusting him, or some nonsense like that. _It isn't that. I just have to know. I don't know what I have to know, but I have to know… something. _Absently, he reached up to his forehead, touching the ever-present bandage.

A bird sang a note in the dawn quiet. Red had ceased his screaming, withdrawn into a semi-comatose state. He could hear the wind through the branches. The buzzing of a fly. GIR's distinctive snore. A twig crackling.

Disconnecting from Red's PAK, he leaped to his feed, bolting toward the sound of GIR's snores.

_Fact. GIR is asleep, and does not sleepwalk._

_ Fact. Someone stepped on a twig._

_ Deduction: Someone is carrying GIR, who is asleep. Was he caught on his way to me?_

Extending his spiderlegs, he leaped up into a tree, clambering to the top and peering down. The snoring was getting closer. Someone was shuffling through the leaves. He caught some muttering about how heavy the robot was.

He peered in that direction. A stooped form stepped out from behind a tree, shuffling in his general direction. In his arms, GIR lay fast asleep. His antenna blipped faster as the form drew closer to Zim.

With a growl, Zim yanked a laser from his PAK, primed it, and aimed it at the form.

"Don't move, stinking hyuman."

The form froze, the head lifting slightly to peer up at Zim, who bared his teeth threateningly.

"What are you doing with my robot, Agent DarkBooty?"

…

**Note: **Wow, that was the fastest broken resolution I've ever had. MWAHAHAHA, BACK TO TORMENTING ZIM!


	9. Deadly Bargaining

**Note: **Okay okay okay, how about, a New Year's Resolution to write nothing but happy-go-lucky stories, where nothing bad happens, and everyone gets exactly what they want by the end?... mph…..pfff…mmmm….BWAHAHAHAHAAHAA…. ehehe, I crack myself up. **Serious note** though, it was brought up that there was some confusion as to who Red was talking about in the flashback Gaz showed Zim. For the record, the "She" referred to by Red was the Smeet's mother, not the smeet. The smeet was definitely Zim.

…..

DarkBooty grimaced. "I know you said freeze, but he's really heavy, can I?"

"Set him down." Zim glowered, watching as the man carefully set the robot down, putting a hand to his lower back as he straightened. "What have you done to GIR?"

"Nothing." DarkBooty rubbed his back. "Didn't do nothing. Came out here to look for you, dumb thing jumped me from behind, kissed my head, and called me a muffin, then went to sleep. I figured it was tracking you and just got distracted, and I was going to come out and talk to you anyway."

Zim remained perched in the tree, feeling better with a height advantage. "Yes, and have you brought all your other smelly Eyeballs with you too? Armed and ready to drag Zim back no doubt."

DarkBooty shook his head. "Just me. Unarmed."

"Likely story!"

DarkBooty put his hands up. "Look, believe what you want. I'm here to make a deal."

"A deal?"

"Yeah, we saw everything that happened on your front lawn."

Zim grimaced. Of course Dib wasn't the only one with surveillance technology. Everyone guessed the Eyeballs watched his every move. "What about it?"

"Well, you've got a pretty messed up Irken around here, I'm guessing."

Zim laid his antennae back, warily. DarkBooty had referred to Red as an Irken, not by his name. He'd had dealings with Red before, so the Eyeballs' surveillance hadn't picked up whatever words he and Gaz had exchanged. They didn't know who the Irken was.

_Let's keep it that way._

"What of it?" Zim demanded.

"We thought you might want some of your technology back." DarkBooty shrugged nonchalantly.

Zim's eyes widened. "My technology? It was confiscated by the government."

DarkBooty looked annoyed. "Most of it, but we got there first. Mothman made a mistake alerting the government about you first, he was so desperate for approval. Fortunately, when he figured out what was going on, he told us. We got to your base a few hours before they did. We got what we could before they completely gutted it." He rocked back on his heels. "We don't know what some of it is, some of it we tortured out of the last few exchange prisoners."

Zim shuddered at that. _Poor Skoodge._

"One of the machines, we're told, is a full medical restoration pod."

Zim's head jerked up. The medical pod, it was exactly what he needed. Even with his help, healing the damage done to Red would take weeks, and every moment would be torture. If he could get Red into the medical pod, it would be a matter of hours, not weeks, for full physical restoration.

"What terms are you proposing?" Zim gripped his laser tightly.

DarkBooty's eyes narrowed a little. "You will come to our facility every day for seven days. You will spend at least three hours with us, during which time you will answer any question we put to you, and you will submit to one test of our choosing. At the end of three hours, we will release you."

The casing of Zim's laser cracked slightly under his grip. Zim growled, "Any excuse to get your filthy tools back in my guts, right DarkBooty?"

DarkBooty raised an eyebrow. "Nobody said anything about tools. I said a test. It could be anything from a skin sample, to an IQ analysis, to an endurance exam. Whatever it may be, we choose it."

Zim frowned. "And no cutting Zim open?"

DarkBooty stuck his hands in his pockets. "Consider it a seven day truce. Nobody will cut you open."

Uneasily, Zim lowered his laser, staring hard at the elderly man before him. He hadn't hurt GIR, he'd come here alone, he'd promised no surgery… just questions and tests. And Zim sorely needed that medical pod.

Sticking his laser back in his PAK, he frowned. "You will transport the pod here. I will move it to my new location afterward."

DarkBooty blinked. "You'll move that thing by yourself? It's huge! It took four of us to lift it!"

Zim waved a hand dismissively. "Just put it on the pig, if you have the pig, and it will hover right over."

DarkBooty started. "That pig is a transportation device? Not a single prisoner could tell us what the heck that was."

Zim gave a crooked grin. "That was the genius of Zim." His smile vanished. "When you bring the pod, leave a map of where to find you. Zim will…" He swallowed. "Follow shortly. But if anything happens to me, I will have GIR alert the government, understood?"

DarkBooty nodded. "Understood. I'll have operatives bring it over in a couple of hours. Be ready for them." His eyes glinted a little. "See you later today then." With that, he turned, walking off.

…..

At the edge of the forest, Agent Disembodied Head intercepted DarkBooty.

"Sir, you think this is smart, man? The alien could give us the slip and all, take the pod and run."

DarkBooty shook his head. "I've been observing him for the past five years, Disembodied Head. The alien has some kind of code of honor, it's why he continues to work with the Membrane woman. If he says he'll come, he'll come."

"And the bomb you planted in the robot's head?"

"Awaiting my signal. There won't be anyone to tell the government."

"You really gonna just ask him questions and stuff for a week?"

DarkBooty grinned. "Absolutely. By the end of a week, we will know every weakness he has, and exactly how to exploit it. On day eight, he won't just come to us. He'll run to us. And then," he finished darkly, "He will pay in full."

…

**Note: **OOH! I got one, here's a great New Year's Resolution, how about— how about I glance slowly to my right, see Zim with a noose and the Grinch with a shovel… and decide to keep my big mouth shut?


	10. Stirring the Pot

Zim wasted no time waking GIR up and probing him with all kinds of questions.

"Are you hurt, GIR?"

"My heart brokeded." GIR sniffed. "I ate all my cheese."

"The hyuman you saw, did he do anything to you?"

"I like the muffin! He's all warm an' cozy. Like a moose."

"You're absolutely sure you're alright?"

"I MISSED YOU MASTAH!" GIR clung to his face like a leech, giggling as Zim flailed backwards.

Eventually, after prying him off, Zim begrudgingly mumbled, "I missed you too GIR. But I need your help now. We have a seriously injured Irken nearby. I'm going to have to leave every now and then, so you have to watch him and make sure he's alright, you understand?"

GIR's head had twisted completely around as he blew spit bubbles at the sky.

"How do you DO that, you don't even have saliv—nevermind. GIR, there's a wounded taco over there." He pointed in the direction of Red. "I need you to—"

"TACOOOOOOO!" GIR screeched, zooming off in Red's direction.

"Right." Zim sighed. "Of course." Zim clambered back up to his perch in the tree, waiting for the Eyeballs to bring the medical pod.

Sure enough, within the hour, two of them came to the spot he'd met with DarkBooty, leaving behind a huge pink pig. They glanced around a bit, then left the device hovering there. One of them pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and taped it to the side of the pig, before turning to leave.

Zim made sure they were long gone before he climbed down. Grabbing the foreleg of the pig, he guided it over to where Red lay.

He wasted no time, tilting the pig to slide out the medical pod. It hit the ground with a terrific crash, but Zim wasn't worried. Irken engineering could withstand a lot more than that. Hurriedly, he connected his PAK to the pod, coaxing it back to a functioning state. He flipped open the solar panels, and watched the dials and displays light up. Rubbing his hands together, he flipped open the pod, then turned to Red.

He didn't look better at all. If anything, he looked worse. His breathing was erratic, and what Zim took to be his mouth kept opening and closing, as if gasping. Zim scooped him up as quickly as possible, loading him into the pod. Once the door was sealed, Zim pressed the large green button by the handle, and stood back.

A viscous, purple goop began to fill the pod. It engulfed Red's body entirely, and for a moment, Red thrashed as he felt the loss of air.

"Come on, Red," Zim muttered. "Don't fight it, breathe it."

Red's limbs slowed slightly, as he began breathing the goop in and out. It was harder work for his body, but the goop was rich in oxygen, nutrients, and nanobots. It would work to heal him inside and out, tirelessly, until his body was completely restored.

Zim glanced over to the pig, and the piece of paper taped to the side. Shivering, he turned to GIR. "Remember, GIR, this wounded taco needs you to watch it very carefully."

Tearfully, GIR looked up, nodding. "Taco…"

Zim turned, snatching the paper, and stalked off toward the Swollen Eyeball HQ.

…

At the edge of the city, in the middle of the dump, Zim found a small manhole with the Eyeball symbol on it. He stood over it for a minute, before working up the nerve to knock on it.

It slid aside, revealing a ladder leading into a chute. The chute lit up with welcoming, incandescent lights. Unwilling to turn his back on the enemy, Zim extended his spiderlegs, using them to climb down the ladder backwards, staring down the entire time.

On reaching the bottom, a good thirty feet down, he found himself face to face with Agent DarkBooty, who smirked a little. "Suspicious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Zim scowled, laying his antennae back. "Last time I was here wasn't exactly an outdoor meal with friends."

DarkBooty paused, then shook his head. "A picnic. You still don't have expressions right."

"I get them half the time now." Zim argued defensively. "Dib teaches me all the t—" Zim swallowed his words, as DarkBooty's face darkened.

DarkBooty turned abruptly, walking down the hall. "You coming? Time's a'wasting."

Reluctantly, Zim trailed the elderly agent. They walked through winding halls and underground passageways with doors on every side. Muffled screams drifted through some of the doors. On hearing them, Zim straightened, pushing his shoulders back in military posture, and marching down the hall, his bootsteps ringing off the metal grated floor.

DarkBooty glanced over his shoulder, and chuckled. "That might have been intimidating when you were in uniform, but it loses its effect when you're in bluejeans and an orange turtleneck."

Ignoring him, Zim continued to march. As long as he could keep his mind on the marching, on the ringing of his footsteps, on the measured military pace, then he wouldn't have to hear those tormented screams. He wouldn't have to think about what might happen to him down here, in the enemy's territory.

DarkBooty turned, opening up one of the doors, and gesturing for Zim to enter. Zim did so, surprised to see a bare room, with only two chairs, and an overhead light. In one of the chairs sat a labcoat clad woman with spiky green hair, glancing over at him.

"Ready, Agent Tunaghost?" DarkBooty asked.

Tunaghost nodded, gesturing to the other seat.

Zim took it, shaking his head and muttering, "Tunaghost. Really? DarkBooty? Tunaghost? Mothman? Who comes up with these stupid names?'

Tunaghost glanced at him. "Who came up with _your_ name? It's pretty weird by any standard."

"Your _hair_ is weird by any standard." Zim growled.

A small smile crossed Tunaghost's face. "Touche." She nodded at DarkBooty, who left the room, closing the door behind him.

Zim sat straight up in his chair, arms crossed, antennae flat against his skull, every inch of his posture defiant and, to the trained eye, frightened.

"Relax Zim." Tunaghost pulled out a clipboard. "DarkBooty says there's a seven day truce, and what he says goes. Nobody's going to hurt you during your visits here. You obviously give some sort of weight to the truce, or you wouldn't have come."

Zim shifted. "Get to the question asking."

Tunaghost inclined her head. "As you wish."

….

Zim forced himself not to run back to the forest, keeping his steps measured and even, his breathing steady.

_It was all stupid, what was the point of that?_

Agent Tunaghost had asked the most ridiculous questions imaginable. Something about whether he preferred puppies to kittens, pine trees to fir trees, and whether he was on team Jacob or team Edward.

_Who the flirk are they?_

They'd administered an IQ test, which he had finished in half the time allotted him. He suspected he wouldn't do well on the idioms and language section, but the math and science questions were simplistic.

On his way out, Agent Tunaghost had escorted him to the ladder. Once he had reached it, she had asked him one more question.

"What are you so afraid of anyway, Zim?"

Zim's muscles had tensed. He had to answer her question, he'd promised to answer. He reached for a true answer, but an old one, one that was nearly a peripheral fear by this point.

"Dogs." He nodded. "I don't like dogs." With that, he scaled the ladder as fast as possible.

But the question had rattled him. He hadn't thought about something like that before. Fear, it was an emotion he felt so often. Not when he was with his family—no, sometimes even then. There were so many… he hardly even knew where to begin. Her question had stirred up the realization of just how many things sent chills down his spine, froze his spooch, or stopped his heart.

Zim stomped into the little section of the forest he had designated for himself and Red, muttering, "Zim will not be afraid of anything. Zim will not be afraid."

"You scaaaaaaared Mastah?" GIR hung upside down from Zim's head, staring into his face.

Zim started, then pushed GIR off. "No, GIR, I'm not scared."

GIR righted himself, staring up. "Ooooh, cause I gots just the thing!"

Zim paused. "What's that?"

"A blanky book!"

"A…what?"

GIR reached into his head, producing a small book and a pen. "I got dis from…" his eyes spun a little, and he shook his head. "I got dis! It's a secret book, gotta write down all'a scary stuffs in it, makes 'em go away." GIR bounded forward, beaming as he lifted the book up to Zim. "For you, Mastah!"

Hesitating, Zim looked at the book. He picked it up, flipping it open. It appeared to be blank, as GIR had said, with lines to write in.

Of course he didn't believe the book would make all his fears go away, but if he could write them down, perhaps they would lessen. Maybe acknowledging them would make them smaller in his own mind. Glancing at the pod, he noted there were still several hours before Red would be ready to emerge. Seating himself on the grass, he opened to the first page, and pressed the primitive implement to the paper.

_ What is Zim afraid of?_

_ Everything._

…

**Note: **I hate having to disclaimer every time, but I really feel I have to. No, there is no ZimXTunaghost.


	11. Harsh Words

**Note: **Sorry for the "drudgery" chapter but it's needed to move the story along properly.

…..

_Zim is afraid of hyumans._

_ Zim is afraid of Morflars._

_ Zim is afraid of sharp instruments._

_ But it's more than just the sum of objects that Zim is afraid of, or they would just be objects._

_ It is when the sharp instruments cut and tear and prod where they should not be that they become fearful. It is when the Morflar looms over you, staring with its red eyes, telling you that it needs your body more than you do, for sustenance—but treats it like a game instead of giving you some kind of dignified end—that it becomes fearful._

_ It's when the hyumans stare at you like you're some kind of creature, the thing under their beds and in their closets that comes to get them in the night, that they become terrifying._

_ Hyumans are not so different than Irkens sometimes. They invent and expand and science everything they can get their hands on, even if they are lightyears behind on their technology. They are also not so very different in their fears. They are afraid of what is different, so they pick it apart until it's not scary anymore._

_ Will I stop being afraid if I can pick it apart in my head?_

…

"Will someone please tell me why you are all in my room today?" Gaz opened one slitted eye, glaring menacingly at the intruders from her bed.

Dib led the way, sitting cross-legged on the floor across from the bed, his expression stony. "Well, some things happened last night, apparently, concerning Zim. I wasn't involved, but you were, so we're here to hash out what happened."

Mikko and Tiana followed behind, sitting on either side of Dib. Della followed, leaning against the closet door, and Tom ducked his head, looking uncomfortable in the doorway.

Gaz stared soullessly at Dib. "I'm not telling you anything."

Dib threw up his arms in frustration. "That's great, Gaz, that's really just fine, you be quiet all you want, but we are going to have this meeting here anyway."

Gaz raised an eyebrow, surprised at Dib's outburst. "You don't usually have a spine."

"He's mad you know things he doesn't know." Mikko chipped in. "And I won't leave him alone since he knows things I don't know. So he's irritated."

"YOU can back off now!" Dib growled. "I'm telling you what you want in a minute."

Mikko pulled away from him, ducking her head.

Della pursed her lips. "Somebody had better start, and fast."

Dib sighed. "Alright, so, I know why Zim's been really tired in the mornings, and acting weird and secretive. He cracked a few days ago and told me bounty hunters have been looking for him. They aren't official, just Irkens after fame for killing Irk's only Mekrelmar. He basically lures them away from your house and battles them away from populated areas." He ran a hand through his hair. "Also, the Eyeball has been threatening him."

Della's jaw tightened. Tom glanced over, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Della, you know he was trying to protect us. The girls especially. Don't go killing him the second you see him."

"No promises." She replied tersely.

"He made me promise not to tell any of you so you wouldn't worry, and so you wouldn't try to interfere and get hurt." He clenched a fistful of his hair. "Then he ran off without telling me a thing, and removed the tracker I put on him to keep him safe, so I don't feel I have to keep his stupid secret." He glanced over at Tiana. "Your turn. What happened?"

Tiana glanced over at Gaz, who turned her face to the wall.

"I was talking to Zim, and Gaz came in and said…" She fidgeted a little. "Said…. Zim was Red's son. And that he had to leave cause Mrs. Membrane knew."

One of Gaz's toys listed to the side, the sound of felt rubbing against the wall loud in the ensuing silence.

Dib turned to Gaz slowly, his eyes dark. "She said earlier that you threw up. You wouldn't have given Red back for anything. You bought Zim's promise to leave, didn't you?"

"Get out of my room, Dib."

Dib stood slowly, walking over to Gaz. "Do you know what I saw when I went with Zim to get Mom, Gaz? I saw a lot of little tiny bodies in tubes. Some of them looked Irken, but had purple hair, or extra fingers, or peach skin." He grabbed her shoulder. "You tell me, Gaz, since you seem to know the most. Zim is Red's son. Who's the mother?"

Gaz wrenched her shoulder away, growling, "Leave it be, Dib. He's gone, and he's not coming back, and I'm not helping you find him!"

Dib grabbed her by both shoulders, spinning her around. "_Who is the mother?_"

Gaz' fist flew out, landing a solid blow on Dib's jaw that snapped his head to the side. "If you're asking me like that," She snarled, "Then you already _know_."

Slowly, he turned his head back to her, and she withered under the expression on his face.

"If anything happens to him out there, Gaz," He said slowly, "If anything happens to my brother—my REAL sibling—I'll never forgive you."

For a moment, Gaz stared at him, her mouth half open, her eyes wide. Then the room's temperature dropped, and she billowed out into a tall, black shadow.

_GET OUT OF MY ROOM! NOW! ALL OF YOU!_

Tom grabbed Mikko's arm, tugging her from the room, while Della herded Tiana out. Dib stood his ground, staring up at Gaz with the same frightening expression on his face, before turning, and leaving her room with slow, deliberate steps.

…..

**Note**

**Me: **I'm going to make this trilogy have the best ending ever.

**My Brain: **Ending? Oh you're so funny. Here's an idea for the fourth installment in the series.

**Me: **WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?

**My Brain: **Maybe a fifth as well.

**Me:** …

**My Brain: **Oh, and here's a kicker, the next one's got like three pairings in it.

**Me: **I'VE NEVER WRITTEN A PAIRING FIC (that wasn't crack) IN MY LIFE!

**My Brain: **You're welcome. Oh by the way, I'll be using ideas that you previously turned down too.

**Conclusion:** My brain is a troll. I'm not even halfway through this story and it's planning the next two in the series. Why…


	12. Plausible Deniability

_BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP._

Zim's head jerked up. 24 hours had passed since he'd placed Red in the medical pod. He'd been so busy writing in the blanky book, he'd completely forgotten about the time. He pulled GIR over, sticking the book back into his head, and hurried over to the pod.

Red floated in the goo, his body in full, Irken shape again. Even in his unconscious state, he had pulled himself into a fetal position, eyes clenched shut.

Zim glanced up at the sun. The Eyeballs would be expecting him for the second day of questions and tests very soon. Red would be alright in the pod. Besides, Zim noted, his Tallest would be needing clothes. Maybe he could find some from the dump.

Once again charging GIR with guarding the Taco, Zim set off toward the Eyeball HQ.

Once again, he entered backwards, facing forward as his spiderlegs lowered him down. This time, however, he was met by Agent Tunaghost. He frowned.

"Where is DarkBooty?"

"He's busy with another project." Tunaghost glanced down at him. "Why, would you prefer him?"

Zim shivered. "No. I don't prefer any of you smellies, but I prefer him the least."

Tunaghost's mouth curled slightly. "I don't blame you. He leads the… shall we say, more radical branch of our organization."

Zim muttered, "I find it hard to believe all the Eyeballs aren't as bloodthirsty as he is."

"And he finds it hard to believe that not all Irkens are homicidal megalomaniacs, so I suppose you're even." She turned on her heel, walking down the hall. Zim followed, keeping his eyes forward, stomping out the sounds around him.

Tunaghost guided him to a different room, one with various pieces of machinery. Zim crouched slightly, alarmed, until Tunaghost snorted at him.

"Honestly, Zim, haven't you ever seen a gym before?"

Zim blinked. "A… gym?"

"Today we're going to test your endurance, so we brought in gym and exercise equipment. None of this is going to hurt you. Unless you use it wrong."

Zim scoffed. "Zim will not be using it wrong." He walked up to one of the devices, gripping the bottom of it, and heaving upward.

"Zim, that's a treadmill. You stand on top of it and run in place."

Zim lowered the side he'd lifted back down. "Zim knew that." He hopped up onto it, and Tunaghost reached up, turning it on. The conveyer began to move, and Zim began jogging in place. "This is going to be easy," he cracked his neck. "I was the fastest runner in the academy."

"The academy?" Tunaghost sat back down. "What academy was that?"

"Irken Elite Invader Training."

"I see, and you did well?"

"I graduated at the top of my class." He kept his eyes fixed ahead.

"If you graduated at the top of your class, why haven't you taken over the planet yet?"

Zim frowned as the speed increased slightly. "I left training with half my sanity intact. If I'd come here as a fully functional Invader, I _would_ have."

"And why aren't you trying now?"

"I don't want to. This is my…" He paused. This wasn't really his home, nowhere was his home. He wasn't truly welcome anywhere. "…This is where my family is." He finished firmly.

Tunaghost glanced up, tilting her head. "And if your family is here, why isn't this your home?"

She was sharp, Zim noted. Best to be careful what he said. "Why do you think?" He returned. "Not like you Eyeballs make it any easier, but I stick out like a big green red-eyed creature. Oh, wait, I am a big green red-eyed creature."

Tunaghost grinned a little. "Well I wouldn't say big."

Zim glared at her, but she just shook her head, chuckling. "It was a joke. Continue."

The speed increased, and Zim turned back forward, troubled. She wasn't treating him like most Eyeball members treated him. He wasn't expecting this. Maybe there were some Eyeballs who were truly just curious, like she implied.

"Do you have a home, then, if it isn't here?"

Zim ducked his head. "No." He said tersely. "Zim has no home."

"Not even on your planet?"

He felt the letters on his forehead burn as he answered, "No. Zim is not welcome on Irk. Not ever again. The Tallests made that very clear."

For about ten minutes, Tunaghost refrained from questions, and just measured his physical responses to increases in speed. Zim hadn't lied about being a great runner. She clocked him at 25mph before he started breathing hard, and 32 before he fell off the treadmill.

After that, she let him rest for a minute, giving him a glass of milk, before leading him over to the chin-up bar. He jumped for it, catching it in his grip, and pulling himself up. Over and over and over.

Tunaghost watched, scribbling away on her notepad. "Your file said you had a lot of scars. Did you get those in the academy?"

Zim grunted. "Most of them."

"Where did you get the others?"

Zim hung from the bar a moment, staring at her like she was stupid. "Are you joking?"

Tunaghost frowned at him. "What?"

"I got them from the Eyeballs."

Tunaghost's frown deepened. "Don't lie like that."

Zim's claws dug into the bar. "What did they tell you about my time here?"

"That they performed some routine tests on you, and you brought the place down around their ears."

Zim gave a short laugh. "I wondered why I didn't recognize you at all. You weren't there, were you?"

Tunaghost shifted. "My specialty is magic and psychic phenomenon. I don't get called in for alien interference really."

Zim's eyes narrowed, and he hauled himself up again. "Well, Agent Tunaghost, I can tell you with full assurance, it was not routine testing. And one of my biggest scars, the one that goes right down the middle of my torso, came from being under the 'care' of the Swollen Eyeball."

Tunaghost's eyes narrow. "DarkBooty is radical, but he isn't that cruel."

"Is that was he told you?" Zim snarled. "If he's not so cruel, what's all the screaming every time we walk down the hall?"

"Every room has a TV, they said the aliens under observation like violent movies."

Zim laughed bitterly. "You… you can't be serious. And I thought hyumans would stop being stupid someday. Your race is masterful at blinding themselves to what you don't want to see, do you know that?"

Tunaghost stood abruptly. "Your time is up."

Zim released the bar, dropping to the ground. "What, already? But we were having such a good time," He sneered.

Tunaghost turned, tightlipped, to lead him down to the exit. Once there, she turned, holding out a closed fist.

"What is—" Zim began, but Tunaghost took his hand and dropped two small patches into it.

"A bonus from DarkBooty. He's not interested in either you or your Irken friend being recognized and blowing our chance to study you."

Zim started, closing his hand around the holographic disguise patches. He hadn't had access to this technology since he'd come down in disguise a little over five years ago. He'd surrendered it as part of his agreement with the government. Did the Eyeball have government connections?

Tunaghost turned, stalking back down the hall. Zim lifted his head, watching her go.

_You should apologize._

_ What for? She's intentionally blinding herself._

_ You weren't any better. You chose not to look at what Tallest Red was doing, didn't you?_

Zim flinched. Ducking his head, he scrambled up the ladder. Once there, he turned toward the forest. He had to get back to Red. He would be conscious any minute. He clenched the patches in his claws. They needed supplies and clothes, and he would need an extra set of arms to carry them.

_Are you really going to order your Tallest to work?_

_ If he wants to survive on this planet, absolutely._


	13. Past and Present

**Note:** Usually a line break denotes passage of time, but in this chapter, it only marks a shift in Point Of View.

….

He coughed, retching up mouthfuls of goo as he crouched on his hands and knees. Once the spasms passed, he drew in a breath of air.

_Air?_

His eyes flew open, then immediately shut against the light. His mind reeled from the few seconds of color and light that had hit his eyes. It had been so long in the dark…

Nothing hurt. Keeping his eyes closed, he carefully felt his own arms, torso, legs. Nothing hurt. And he was sitting on something, not suspended in a digestive system. He felt the ground. It was prickly and crunchy—ah merciful Irk, he could hear sounds again—and when he flicked his tongue out, he could smell a woody, earthy scent.

_Is this part of her game?_ He instantly curled back into a ball. _She's going to let me think I'm safe, then come and eat me again._

"Tallest Red, to your feet."

_That voice…_

"We need to get supplies before dark, and you are needed."

Red cracked his eyelids, letting in the least amount of light possible. His eyes stung, but he worked them open, slowly readjusting to vision.

Boots, he could see boots. He followed the boots up to the legs and the chest with the arms folded across them, to the face with a giggling robot on its head.

"Zim." he croaked.

"Yes, Zim is Zim, and Red is Red, and Red needs to get up."

Numbly, Red attempted to get to his feet, but his legs gave out. His spiderlegs shot out, catching him before he faceplanted.

Zim sighed. "You haven't used your muscles for a long time. The medical pod regenerated them, but it may take you awhile to recall how to use them."

Red looked up, bewildered. "Zim?"

…

"Yes, Zim is here." Zim pushed GIR off his head, annoyed.

Red looked around, confusion in his eyes. "Where is she?" He reached up, touching his head. "She's not here anymore, she's always in my head…"

Zim leaned against a tree. "Zim bargained for your release, that is all you need to know."

Red blinked, and reached back, fumbling for something in his PAK. He pulled out a small cube, staring at it. "It broke," he stated dumbly.

Zim approached, crouching down to look at the object in Red's hand. He recognized the emotion filter, but just barely. The surface of every emotion filter was supposed to be a smooth, metallic gray. Hairline fractures covered every surface of this cube, and several sections were mottled gray and black.

"And I thought a little crack in mine was bad," Zim mused. "Well, I guess being in a Morflar for five years would do this."

Red stared at the cube. His body began to shiver. "It broke." His eyes were wide. "It broke, I… I have to fix it. Tallests can't be defective."

Zim scowled. "You can't fix them. And after awhile, you won't want to. Don't bother."

"I have to fix it!" Red staggered to his feet, head turning back and forth, eyes darting. "I have to fix it, defects… bad things happen… I have to fix it!"

Zim closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. He should have prepared for this. He should have revisited his own experiences, stumbling free of madness, before bringing Red back. Opening his eyes, he opened his mouth to speak, and barely managed to dodge a spiderleg, spearing toward him.

"You broke it!" Red's eyes were wide and fearful. "You broke it, they're going to come now! They'll come and kill her! I won't let them kill her!"

_Wonderful. Reliving the past as if it's happening now._

Zim caught the second attempt to spear him, grabbing Red's spiderleg and wrenching to the side, throwing the Tallest off balance. "She's already dead!" Zim shouted. "Get ahold of yourself, Red! She's dead, you can't save her. It's in the past!"

"No!" Red howled. "I can fix it, I can save her!" Robotic wires shot out of his PAK, whipping Zim into a tree. Zim grunted, feeling his ribs crack.

_ If our emotion filters all broke at once, the Irken race would wipe itself out in minutes._

Zim extended his own spiderlegs, pinning the robotic wires, and darted forward. Hurtling through the air, he plowed into the Tallest, tackling him to the ground. Grabbing Red's face, he forced Red to look him in the eyes. "Red, I saw! I saw what happened. But it's in the past, there's nothing you can do to change it, you have to move forward and survive now!"

Red's breath hitched. "Where is she?" He grabbed Zim's shirt, pleading, "Please, I'll do whatever you want, just bring her back…"

Zim's antennae drooped. "I'm sorry." He said quietly, removing Red's hands. "Your Maneem is dead. She's been dead for a long time."

…..

**CONTROL BRAIN RECORDS**

**TALLEST RED FILE: HISTORY**  
**NAME:** Almighty Tallest Red

**AGE:** 207

**SEX:** Male

**HEIGHT:** 6 foot 5 inches

**WEIGHT:** 189 lbs

**BIRTH NOTES:** Naturally born to Invader Panat. When discovered, Invader Panat refused to give up the smeet for Tallest training. Evaded capture for over three years before her location was confirmed to Irken Authorities.

**STATUS OF PARENTAL UNIT:** Defective Emotion Filter deemed to be the cause of disobedience. Severely punished, then incinerated with dwelling.

**STATUS OF SMEET:** Once located and confiscated, equipped with PAK, put into Tallest Training. Shows great promise as a leader.

…

**Note:** Yes, two chapters in one night. Because I'm compulsive, and this story is spawning concepts the longer I stay with it, so I must finish it as soon as I possibly can SO I CAN FINISH OTHER PROJECTS.

**Brain: **Who are you kidding? You have two more stories in this series to write, you're not going anywhere.

**Me: **;_;


	14. Through a Filter

**Note:** Third chapter in one night. Why? Because I'm attempting to outrun my brain. If I can get this written faster, maybe I can catch up and overtake all the ideas that are just gooshing right now. Er, I mean…. Merry Late Christmas?

….

Red sat back against a tree trunk, staring at nothing. He'd been like that for an hour now, and Zim was getting impatient. He knew it took time to readjust to a sane thought pattern, but they needed to get supplies. Red didn't have a stitch of clothing on him, and Zim hadn't eaten in two days.

Finally, he stalked over to Red. "Tallest Red, I know you're in shock, but we have to get supplies. If you can put your shock on hold until after we get supplies, we will be in much better shape to deal with whatever is going on in your head at the moment."

Red turned his head toward Zim, slowly. "Where are we?"

Zim blinked. He hadn't even considered that Red didn't know what planet they were on, but it made sense. He'd been consumed by Gaz while on the Massive, after all.

"We're on Earth." Zim squatted nearby. "And it gets cold at night, and we need food. _You_ need clothes."

Red just stared at him blankly. "What did you see?" He asked slowly.

Zim tensed a little. Tallests records and histories were strictly confidential. Red had transmitted them himself in an act of desperation, but in his current state of mind, he might not take that into consideration.

_He might attack again_.

"Zim." Red's voice was shakey. "What did you see?"

Carefully, Zim maneuvered himself into a defensive position, keeping his eyes trained on Red, before answering.

"I saw Invader Panat, from your point of view. She was hugging you and trying to hold onto you. You were being pulled away from her. The soldiers grabbed you, and two of them pinned her down. They… removed her eyes. And antennae."

"Ripped them out and off, Zim." Red said bluntly. "Just say it."

Zim paused, then continued, "They beat her while she crawled around trying to find you. They shoved her eyes in your face. Then they took you out of the home and incinerated the entire dwelling, with her inside."

Red drew a long, shuddering breath. "You know what's really scary, Zim?"

Zim shook his head.

"I could feel exactly when I stopped caring that it happened. And it was the second they put the PAK on my back." He stared hard at the ground. "They had me come in a lot, you know. Servicing my PAK. Said they had to program special codes for the Tallest access to commands and databases. I think they shored up my emotion filter every time, though. I felt less every time I left. Zim." He kept his eyes down. "I know I'm not stable at the moment, my mind is still catching up with any emotion my PAK blocked, and I'm a little scattered, but I have the feeling I've done…" His claws curled inward. "…some horrible things, but I can't pick them out at the moment."

Zim relaxed his stance, and sat on the ground. "My Tallest?"

Red didn't lift his head.

"My Tallest, you were not well. Zim…" He shifted. "Zim understands. Zim was… not well for a long time also."

Red's antenna flicked in Zim's direction. "And you're well now?"

Zim shrugged uncomfortably. "Learning how to be better all the time."

"This isn't _better_, Zim, this is almost insanity in itself, my spooch feels like it wants to crawl away and bury itself in a hole. It _hurts_. What about this is better? There's a reason we have our emotions filtered!"

Zim scratched absently at the dirt. "I've wondered that too. But I think I know the answer. I think you'll know it soon too, but I was never really… happy, before."

Red snorted. "Of course you were, you were plenty happy to see us and bother us to no end."

Zim scowled. "I was not… happy. I was empty."

Red blinked. "Empty?"

"Empty. Reaching for… something. Approval, I needed the Tallests to approve of Zim. I needed to be the greatest, but it always went wrong. I was so insane, that all my destruction became a great accomplishment. I thought, surely the Tallests must acknowledge me now. When you told me I was a joke…" His claws dug into the dirt. "I thought the empty was all that was left, there wasn't even pride or self-preservation. Just empty." He glanced at Red. "Have you ever really been happy?"

Red fell silent, filtering through memories. He'd enjoyed himself, he'd had some good times and fun with Purple. But he couldn't think of a single time when he had been without a need, deep in his spooch, for something. He shook his head.

"Because the emotion filter took it all away, the happy with the sad. The good with the bad. My Tallest, I think… I think we can't know what the happy is without the feeling you're having right now."

Red lifted his head. "Are you happy, Zim?"

It was Zim's turn to drop his head. "Not right now, no." He said softly. "But I was, for awhile."

Before Red could probe further, GIR latched onto Zim's head, giggling. "Mastah's gonna get wet!"

"Get off me, GIR. What do you mean?"

GIR yanked Zim's head back to stare at the sky. Ominous looking clouds had gathered in the sky overhead, rumbling with thunder.

"Flirk!" Zim leaped to his feet, yanking Red to his. "Take this!" Zim slapped a patch onto Red's shoulder, and one onto his own.

Red's Irken appearance shifted. A tall, gangly hyuman stood in his place, with a mop of orangey-red hair and deep red eyes. Zim had changed as well, appearing as a young man with reddish brown hair. Zim checked Red's disguise, grateful that the hologram included a set of clothes. They weren't physically there, but would cover Red's nakedness until they reached a clothing store.

"What are you doing?" Red demanded.

"We have to get into town, it's going to rain soon. This planet produces H2O as its primary liquid source, and it's about to come pouring from the sky in a moment."

Red's eyes widened. "Where do we go?"

Zim reached into his pocket, pulling out a small plastic card. Tom and Della had helped him set up a money system for his earnings from the mechanic shop, and he had never been more grateful. He would need every cent to keep them going until he could find another source of work in another city. "Into the city. Follow Zim, and do not speak to anyone."

…..

Dib paced back and forth across his room, frustrated and angry. Mikko watched him from an extra chair.

"Stupid idiot, what's he thinking? He's going to get himself captured and hurt, and I won't even know about it. We're supposed to work together to keep him safe, why isn't he cooperating? Does he _want_ to get hurt?"

Dib's computer bleeped, but he was too preoccupied with his monologue to notice. Mikko scooted over, clicking the alert icon on the screen. Her eyes widened. "Dib! What does this mean, about Zim's account?"

Dib flew over to his desk, snatching the mouse from Mikko and scanning the information. "Ha, haha! Zim used his debit card! He used it just now, and it's over at Sweaterland!" He grabbed Mikko's arm and ran for the door. "Come on, Mikko, if we hurry we can catch him!"

…

**Note:** Sorry if the quality of writing was not as good in this chapter… it's almost 4 in the morning and this is this third chapter tonight.


	15. Sunglasses in the Rain

Zim rested his head against the glass, watching the rain slide down the other side. Interesting, he noted, how only a centimeter of glass could keep burning liquid pain at bay.

"How long do these skyfalls usually last?" An irritated voice inquired from behind.

"It varies." Zim sighed. "This one looks like a couple of hours probably."

"Can't we get one of those things?" Red pointed outside, where several hyumans walked by carrying large, curved coverings at the end of a stick.

"Umbrellas," Zim noted. "But the water doesn't cause the hyumans pain. Even with those umbrellas, they still get a little wet, it doesn't cover them completely."

Red sighed, sitting in a nearby waiting seat. Now fitted with a pair of black jeans and a heavy burgundy hoodie, he looked more than ready to leave, but stared at Zim, as if trying to figure him out.

"What exactly is it that you could offer a Morflar?" Red asked. "Morflars don't make exchanges, and they don't release their meals. Ever. It just doesn't happen."

Zim's mouth crooked into a bitter smile. "If it had been any other Morflar, it wouldn't have happened. But this one was raised by hyumans." He shook his head. "They have an odd way of encouraging emotion, even in creatures with the least amount of conscience."

"That doesn't answer my question." Red frowned. "What could you possibly have offered?"

Zim didn't turn around, continuing to stare out the window. "I promised to leave." He said simply. "I promised I wouldn't come back, that I wouldn't bother her family again."

Red raised an antenna. "You could have done that without leaving the city for good, couldn't you stay with those aliens that came charging in to save you?"

Shaking his head, Zim replied, "I had to leave completely. That was the deal."

"That doesn't make sense." Red muttered. "Why would a morflar want you gone that badly? I mean, I get wanting an irritation like you gone, but—"

"Zim!"

Zim froze, willing himself not to jerk or twitch or show his shock.

"Zim, you moron, wherever you are, you get over here right now!"

Forcing himself to move casually, Zim turned his head to peer over his shoulder, as if casually assessing the disturbance.

A few meters over, Dib had entered the store. He looked a wreck, his scythe limp, circles under his eyes, and his clothes all rumpled. Right behind him was Mikko, wobbling with lack of sleep, but trailing Dib and peering about anxiously.

Zim turned away from them, his spooch twisting. Quietly, he muttered, "Red. We need to leave. Now."

"We can't," Red pointed to the window. "The sky is still falling."

"Don't point!" Zim hissed. "The Dib is sharp, he will pick up on it." He turned to Red, assessing his disguise more critically. "Everything looks good, everything looks normal…." He sucked in a breath, realizing a critical flaw in his and Red's disguises. In all his time on Earth, he had never seen a human with red-colored irises. Dib had, though. He'd seen it in Zim's last attempt at a holographic disguise. It would be an instant give-away. Zim put a hand to his mouth, realizing the secondary problem, that Dib would know his voice.

"Zim!" Dib shouted, storming deeper into the store. "Get out here you bug-eyed insect!"

Zim's eyes narrowed. Dib was furious, that much was obvious, but he didn't have to resort to old insults. He did that, occasionally, in a joking manner, but it was obvious by his tone that he was dead serious. He strolled over to the accessories section and quickly grabbed two sunglasses. Returning, he shoved one at Red, and donned the other pair.

"Listen, that over there, that is Dib. He knows me almost better than anyone on this planet, and he hates your guts. If my deal is broken and he finds me and drags me back, his sister, the Gaz-Morflar, will come and get you back."

Alarmed, Red copied Zim, slipping on the sunglasses. "So what's your idea?"

"If he comes over here and talks to us, you have to talk. He knows my voice. Just pretend I'm your mute Nephew."

"My mute what?"

"It's a familial term, just say it! And whatever you do, don't get confused if he uses strange words. Just nod like you understand. And whatever he says _don't_ act like you know him, or are superior to him, because hyumans don't normally do that!"

…

Red muttered, "I know that hyuman?" But Zim had already turned back to the window, resuming his stare.

"You!" Red was jerked around to face a rather crazed… what did Zim call him? Dib. "Have you seen an alien in this store? He might not look like an alien, he might look normal, except maybe one or two things might be weird, like the color of his hair or his eyes."

Red paused. This hyuman did look a little familiar. "Um, no. No, I haven't seen an alien here. Or anyone strange." His gaze strayed to the female accompanying Dib. She looked familiar as well. What was he not recalling?

Dib turned to Zim, still facing the window. "What about you, have you seen anything?" He demanded, starting toward him.

Red reached out, grabbing Dib's arm. "My… um… Nephew, he doesn't talk. Don't bother him."

Dib jerked his arm away, glaring. "Even if he doesn't talk, he might have seen something. You!" He poked Zim's shoulder hard. "Have you seen anything like I'm talking about?"

Zim didn't budge, but shook his head.

Red felt the beginnings of panic. He didn't know why, but for some reason, if he didn't keep Zim from being discovered, he would be eaten again. He could drag the "why" out of Zim later, but for now, he had to keep things from happening.

A hand on his arm stopped him, and he turned again to the female, who looked up at him anxiously.

"Please, are you sure you haven't seen him?" Her eyes searched his sunglasses pleadingly.

Anxiety began giving way to something else, but he wasn't sure what it was. What was that look in her eyes, and why was finding Zim so important to her? It was just Zim, what was the big deal? For that matter, why was this Dib so set on finding Zim too?

….

Zim could feel Dib poking his shoulder, and knew the game was up. He couldn't turn to face Dib, or Dib would see it all over his face. But a normal hyuman would turn and face someone who was aggressively poking them.

It couldn't end like this, Dib didn't know what he was doing! The Gaz would reclaim Red, and Zim didn't even have the questions formed for the answers he wanted!

Zim raised a hand, swatting Dib's hand away without turning from the window. Hands grabbed him from behind, spinning him around and ripping off his sunglasses. Zim forced his features to assume a stony, stupid glare.

Dib stared at him for a long time, eyes narrowed.

_He knows._

Dib's voice was raw when he spoke. "Have you seen any aliens around here?"

Zim's spooch twisted painfully as he shook his head. _I'm sorry, Dib._

Dib shoved him against the glass, glaring at him. "Why are you doing this?" He whispered angrily. "You don't have anything to prove, Zim. You already have a family that cares about you. A friend that would do anything for you. Are you really throwing that away for _him_?"

Zim felt his resolve crumbling. Maybe he should go back to his family. Della would be worried sick. Of course, she'd berate him for a few hours, but then she'd hug him and tell him it was alright, but that he'd better never pull that again. Tom might give him a pat on the shoulder. Tiana would glom onto him, for sure. And Mikko…

His eyes moved to Mikko, pleading with Red about something. There was a lost, confused expression on Red's face, like he was desperately trying to figure something out.

Zim squeezed his eyes shut, and pushed Dib off. Zim knew what it was to be lost and confused, to not know up from down, but he had had several people willing to help him right himself.

Red had nobody.

Dib stared at him for a moment, before turning and stalking away. He paused by Mikko, and turned to glare at Red. He jerked Mikko back, snarling, "Keep your eyes to yourself, pervert!" Before pulling her toward the door.

_He _would_ figure out that was Red. He's too smart for his own good._

Mikko stumbled after Dib, asking, "Is he here? I thought you said he was here."

"No," Dib growled, refusing to turn back. "You don't have a brother in this building." With that, the door slammed behind him.

Zim took a few unsteady steps over to Red, but didn't manage to make it that far, before sinking to his knees. His vision swam as he attempted to scrub the liquid out of his eyes.

"So…" Red mused, watching Zim. "Still think we don't need those emotion filters?"

Zim couldn't answer. All he could hear was Dib's damning words, repeating over and over.

_You don't have a brother in this building._


	16. Shadow of Herself

**Note:** Hm… who haven't we touched on much yet—oh yeah.

…..

Membrane had long since moved Gloria from the couch to their bed, pulling the covers up around her, and holding her hand. Simmons had been trying to get ahold of him for an hour now, but he'd blocked all calls. The world could get along without him for awhile.

Reaching up, he pulled his goggles off, letting them dangle from his neck. She'd never liked his goggles, and he didn't want to startle her once she woke up.

He removed his gloves, reaching a hand over to brush her hair away from her face. His hand passed over a few of the lighter scars on her cheek.

He'd spent his rage at the situation long ago. All that was left now was sorrow and shame. Sorrow, to see the woman he loved so much reduced to a shell of her former self. Shame, that he hadn't been able to do a thing to protect her. He hadn't even been a part of her rescue, his son and an _alien_ had gone to find her. Twice.

She'd been so…. _Alive_. He remembered so clearly. His idea of an enjoyable date was a simple picnic. Hers had been a day of rock climbing and _then _a picnic. At the top of a cliff. The day after that, he had invented anti-gravity boots so he would never, ever, _ever_ have to cling to the side of a cliff face, fearing for his life, ever again.

There wasn't a challenge she was ever unprepared to tackle. He'd known her since middle-skool, when his family had moved to town. Gloria, with her then-waist-length purple hair, bound tightly in a braid so it wouldn't be in her way. He remembered his first glimpse of her, tearing past him in the street, on a horse. _Who rides horses here?_ He'd thought, boggled. Later, at Skool, she'd walked up to him, punched him playfully in the shoulder, and welcomed him to "The worst educational system in the country."

She hadn't been far off, the whole experience had been abysmal, from the teachers to the students. Membrane had ended up passing only by reading the textbooks cover to cover. The only other student who had shown an interest in excelling had been Gloria, so they'd teamed up as study partners.

Her expertise lay in English, the arts, and physical education. His lay in Math, science, and historical patterns. Together they worked through all questions and difficulties, until each had a chance of passing their "problem" classes.

Years passed. They graduated middle-skool and hi-skool together. They chose to attend different colleges, but kept in touch. She would write him lengthy letters about her week, often interspersed with gesture sketches or, sometimes, little watercolor images of campus life. He would write back, filling her in on his latest experiments, and the advances they would be making soon. Every accomplishment was detailed, and every secret shared. Occasionally, he would slip in the innocuous question, "Have you met anyone interesting?" Which she never chose to answer.

Finally, after the seventh or eighth time, she responded, "If you want to go on a date, Ivan, why don't you just say so?"

He stroked her cheek gently. _My Glory. Always able to read between the lines._

Marriage and pregnancy hardly slowed her at all. She'd joked occasionally that their kid would be born while she was horseback riding, and Membrane would laugh nervously, not sure if she was really joking or not. When Dib had been born, he'd seen a side of her that he didn't even know existed. Not that she wasn't a kind person, of course she was, but with Dib in her arms, some of her fire melted away—and it wasn't a bad thing. She looked up at him, and took his hand. Tears had run down her face, as she smiled at him. "Look. Just look. He looks like you."

She'd insisted on keeping Dib in their room for the first few months, and sometimes he would wake up to see her looking down at Dib, an expression of awe on her face.

_She never thought she was capable of something like that._

It must have affected her in a deeper way than he'd thought, because when a small, black-haired child appeared on their doorstep, claiming in a monotone voice that it had lost its parents, Gloria hadn't even batted an eye. "It's alright, we'll find them." She assured the child. And when the parents could not be found, it was Gloria who insisted that they adopt the girl.

Then, one day, Gloria was gone. Membrane had woken up to the sound of Dib screaming, his head swollen to twice its normal size. He'd picked Dib up, leaving the bedroom to search the house. She was nowhere to be found. He assured himself that she would be back, and was probably riding a horse or climbing a rock wall somewhere.

As the hours passed, he grew more anxious. When she didn't return that night, he put out a missing person's report. Dib would not stop screaming, and Gaz—what Gloria had named the young girl—had finally pulled Dib out of Membrane's arms, feeding him formula.

Weeks went by with no sign of her, and Membrane began to lose hope. After two months, he hired a nurse for Dib, and locked himself in his laboratories, only emerging on occasion, to check on his children.

He never thought he would see her again. Then, to have her return to him in such a state…

Even in her sleep, she was different. Before, where she had spread out across the bed, sometimes nudging him toward the edge in her sleep, she now curled in on herself as tightly as possible. Many nights, he would wake to the sound of her screaming. All he could do was pull her into his arms and hold her, rocking her until she woke up. She would cling to him, sobbing wordlessly, until she slipped back into sleep.

Five years. He knew the basics of what had happened, but she still didn't speak of it. He didn't push her, hoping that eventually her mind would recover without having to delve back into the past.

Her hand squeezed his gently, and he paused. "Gloria?"

Her eyes had opened, and she stared at him, a stricken expression on her face. "He's one of them, Ivan." She whispered.

Membrane gently gathered her into his arms. Her head rested against his shoulder, as she clutched his hand. "What do you mean?"

"I…" She closed her eyes. "I don't…. want you to think…" She shuddered, drawing her knees up. "Ivan… I tried, I did…"

His breath caught. She was talking about it? Was she going to tell him?

"I fought, but… he was stronger… I didn't want… I'm sorry…"

Membrane wrapped his arms around her tightly. "It wasn't your fault, Gloria. Don't you dare apologize."

She sobbed. "But I couldn't stop it… I couldn't keep them from being taken."

"Taken?" A sick sensation was developing in Membrane's stomach, but he didn't want the conclusion to be true. "Who was taken?"

"The babies…" She buried her face in his chest. "All the babies… taken away… then he'd bring me in again, and tell me what happened to the last one… while he…"

Membrane brought a hand up, putting two fingers to her lips. He wasn't sure he could handle hearing this without breaking something. But she pulled his hand away.

"He survived, Ivan."

Membrane frowned. "What do you mean? You told me Red died, that he was eaten."

"Not Red. One of my babies… he survived."

Membrane stared down at her. "How? And how would you know?"

Gloria reached up to her face, touching the corner of one eye. "Zim was fixing my eyes." Membrane frowned. He tolerated the alien's assistance, as he had proven himself, but he didn't like him near Gloria. It set her on edge. "He must have put the wrong code in… I opened my eyes, and when I looked at him, I saw pictures." She gestured. "On the sides of my vision, like a computer screen. One side was a picture of… him…. And the words 'Hereditary match'." She closed her eyes. "I screamed for Zim to get out. I couldn't stand it, one of His... offspring, near me… but then there was another picture on the side." She clung to Membrane's hand. "Ivan… Zim is one of the babies. I don't know how… but my picture was on the other side of my vision, with the same words."

Stunned, Membrane sat there, trying to process what she was saying. It would be easy to prove, all it would take would be a simple genetic test…

_Why can't the aliens just leave our family alone?_

Anger curdled his stomach.

She stirred, trying to sit up. "I have to find him, I have to go get him." Her eyes were wide as she tried to stand.

Membrane pulled her back down. "Gloria, please. You don't have to, he's fully developed, he's doing fine on his own."

Gloria looked at him, dismay in her eyes. "What are you saying? I didn't protect him!"

Membrane winced at this echo of his own shame.

"I didn't protect him, I couldn't, and now I have the chance to see him and apologize, and tell him I tried as hard as I could…" Her voice cracked. "Ivan I called him a monster…"

Membrane pulled her into a gentle embrace, kissing the top of her head. They stayed like that for a moment, before Membrane released her, standing up. "I'll find him, Glory. Rest, think about what you want to say. I'll bring him back."

She looked up to him, tears filling her eyes again. She reached out, taking his hand once more. "Thank you."

He squeezed her hand, before leaving the room.

A shadow in the hall flickered slightly. He paused, glancing in that direction. It didn't move again, and he rubbed his eyes, donning his goggles, and heading for the door.


	17. Temporary Preparations

**Note:** To the kind reviewer who asked for pointers on drama and anguish in stories… you do not want a ticket into my head. Please trust me on this. It frightens people who KNOW me, much less people who just read me.

…

Zim stumbled, nearly dropping his load. His spiderlegs caught him, and he kept them out for balance. He was having difficulty being as precise with his footsteps as he usually was. He'd loaded Red down with the waterproof tent and cooking supplies, while he hauled a rather large load of Irken-edible food that he'd chosen from the grocery store.

As soon as the rainstorm had passed, he'd silently guided Red into various nearby stores, pulling together the supplies they would need for the coming week. Five more days, Zim had told Red, then they would leave this area and move to a new location where he could find work.

_Five more days with the Eyeballs. Then I'll leave and never come back._

He dropped the supplies, calling up at one of the trees, "GIR, you're not an owl. Come on down."

The bot plummeted from the top, falling on his head. He grinned at Zim, upside down. "I saw a squirrel."

"That's nice GIR." Zim said flatly, as he began unpacking.

Red dropped his supplies as well. He pulled the directions out of the tent packaging, scanning them briefly, before emptying the pieces out and setting to work. Zim glanced at him, surprised. Red looked up. "What, Zim? I'm not stupid. I know how to assemble a tent. I went through training too."

Zim nodded, turning back to the food. He'd just forgotten… no, he just wasn't thinking clearly. He couldn't think clearly. There was too much to think about.

Maybe the book… if he put his thoughts down and could look at them, maybe they would make more sense. Calling GIR over, he pulled out the blanky book, and began to write.

_One of Zim's fears has become true._

_ The Dib has been a strange companion since the day I came to this place. He has been the worst of annoyances, the most dangerous of enemies, and somehow, the best comrade Zim could ever have asked for. It was Dib who delivered me to the Earth authorities. He threatened me, invaded my memories, and dragged me back to Irk at gunpoint._

_ He saw me at my worst, most miserable moments. And he didn't take advantage of them._

_ He turned around, becoming my greatest advocate, when almost no one else was. Through his efforts, I was eventually granted amnesty, and refuge. He continues to work tirelessly on my behalf, trying to assure the hyumans all around me that I am no threat, completely undoing all that he worked for as a child._

_ The only thing he's asked of me is trust. He's owed that much. Nobody believed him, nobody trusted him enough to take his word on anything. So he asks me to trust him, to let him in on what is going on, and if something is wrong, to come to him so he can help make it right._

_ I have long since let go of the fear that he will turn on me. It isn't in Dib's nature to betray an ally, in spite of what Agent DarkBooty thinks. He left the Swollen Eyeball for what they did to his family, and their refusal to change. Allies—friends—are too precious to him to turn on. And we are friends._

_ Or we were. Now I do not know. He was so angry. I don't know what he thinks, but I can guess. He obviously figured out some things, maybe even what Gaz tried so hard to hide about my parentage. Maybe he thinks I'm betraying him, abandoning them all._

_ Am I?_

_ I can't be. I don't want this. I want to go back to my family, I want to feel safe, I want to be with the people who care about me. There aren't many, and I left them behind._

_ For what? What do I even want to know from him so badly?_

"What are you doing?"

Zim jerked, slamming the book shut. "Nothing. Zim is recording data."

"Record data later. I got the tent up, you get to cook the food." Red sat down and stretched out.

Zim watched him a moment, then began pulling out supplies for a meal. "I didn't expect you to do your share of the work." He admitted.

Red rolled his eyes. "What, because the Tallests are lazy idiots?" He scratched behind his antennae. "We went through training too, Zim."

Zim looked down at the food he was preparing, recalling the last time he'd seen Red. He'd removed the top half of his armor, leaving his upper torso exposed. His skin was covered with scars, just like Zim's. He'd heard vague rumors about what happened during Tallest training, but he never bothered with them. He'd always been far too short to even be considered.

"This is a survival situation," Red continued, stretching. "I know it's necessary to work to survive in situations like this."

_You're looking awfully well for someone who was half melted two days ago._

Red instantly curled in on himself, shivering, eyes wide.

Zim glanced up to see a dark shadow glaring down at Red. "Gaz! Leave him alone!"

Gaz shifted, drifting over toward Zim. _You were supposed to leave completely._

Zim swallowed, standing his ground. "I'm going to. We're going to, I just need five more days."

_The deal was that you leave _now_. You've already started splitting my family apart._

Zim's claws curled. "What the Dib does is not my concern." He averted his eyes. "And since when has it been yours?"

_He's still my brother. _Her eyes narrowed. _He may think of himself as the older brother, but I was there taking care of him when neither Mom or Dad were there for us. Besides, Mom and Dad know now. And they're looking for you._

Alarmed, Zim raised his head. "Looking for me? Because…" He glanced over at Red.

_They're looking for you. You need to leave._

"I can't!" Zim turned back to her. "I had to make another deal to get medical equipment for Red!"

Gaz' eyes widened slightly. _Another deal?_ She lowered her head, staring eye-to-eye with him. _Who did you deal with, Zim? _She stretched out a flare, brushing over his head, gathering information.

He jerked away, stammering, "Th-that's unfair!"

_You cannot seriously be dealing with the Swollen Eyeball. They will kill you. They will destroy you, then they will kill you._

Zim shivered, gripping his arms. "What d-do you care anyway? You want me to leave."

_I want you to leave because Irkens have brought nothing but grief to my family. You're incapable of otherwise as a race! You bring misery wherever you go, and destruction to whatever you touch!_

"And you don't?" Zim shouted, pointing over at Red, who lay shaking on the ground. "Look at him! LOOK AT HIM!"

Gaz turned her head away, but Zim reached up, his claws attempting to grasp at her, but passing through shadow. "LOOK AT HIM! Your race is no better, and you dare tell Zim that Irkens bring nothing but misery?"

Gaz swatted him aside, glaring. _So you are dealing with the Swollen Eyeball. Then you will leave?_

"Yes." Zim grunted, rising. "Yes. Then Zim and Red will leave."

_You had better. And don't let my parents find you._ With that, she slithered off in the direction of the city.

Zim glanced at Red, still shaking on the ground. He sighed. "Thank you so very much, Gaz. Setbacks are always appreciated."

….

_I'm sorry Mom. I know you want to find him. But something bad is going to happen if you keep trying. I can feel it. I will not have Irkens ruining this family again._


	18. Running Out of Time

"Red, I need to leave and collect more supplies for a few hours." Zim stared down at Red, who hadn't moved much since Gaz left. "GIR will keep watch and make sure you're safe."

"TACO!" GIR glommed onto the Tallest's head. "I love you!"

Red didn't respond.

"I'll be back in a few hours." Zim turned, leaving the campsite. Today was his third session with the Swollen Eyeball, and already he realized it was taking too long. Any day now, they would find him, and drag him back. It would all be well intentioned, of course, but then Gaz would make good on her promise. Besides, there would always be Irkens coming to find him, if he left the city like Gaz said, his family would be safe from them.

And the faster he left, and cut ties, the less the Eyeball would consider causing his family harm.

With these thoughts in mind, he approached the manhole at the dump. He considered it for a moment, then knocked for entrance. It slide aside, the chute lighting up as usual.

He hesitated for a moment, then turned around, slowly climbing down the ladder correctly. Every second, he felt as if something was going to attack him from behind, but he forced himself to do it. He knew DarkBooty was watching. And he would need to appear cooperative for what he had in mind.

At the bottom, he was met by Agent Tunaghost. He expected a cold reception after their conversation the previous day, but was surprised when she smiled tiredly at him.

"Well, still coming back. Come on. You know the way."

Zim raised an antenna, but cautiously led the way to the room set aside for testing and questions. The gym equipment remained, and she gestured to one of the machines.

"This is a weight-lifting machine. You hold the handles here," She demonstrated, "And pull, release. Pull, release. I will add more weights, and you can tell me when it's enough."

Zim nodded, sitting on the bench, and grabbing the handles.

Tunaghost sat in her chair, looking down at her notepad. She glanced over at Zim, a troubled expression on her face.

Zim grunted, lifting the first set of weights. "Ask. It's what Zim is coming to this filthy stinkhole for."

Tunaghost rolled the pen between her thumb and forefinger. "You don't have an ounce of psychic ability, do you?"

Zim paused, glancing over at her incredulously. "Did they brief you _at all_ on the Irken race before assigning you to ask questions?" The discomfort on her face was all the answer he needed. Turning back, he continued lifting. "Irkens aren't psychic, or telepathic, or empathic, or proficient in any sort of mind-to-mind wavey-things. For that, you want a Morflar or a Devorrah. Maybe a Meekrob. Why?"

Tunaghost glanced up to the corner of the room, a hard expression on her face. Zim followed her stare, spotting the tiny camera, hidden away in a niche by the ceiling. Glancing back at Tunaghost's frustrated expression, he snickered.

_DarkBooty put her on this case to see if I brainwashed Dib through magic or psychic powers, since that's her specialty, and didn't tell her._

Tunaghost glared back down at her pad, and muttered, "Shut up. Next question."

….

At the end of the session, Zim stretched his weary muscles. He may have been fast in the academy, but he'd never been the strongest. His agility and speed has been his most valuable assets, not brute force.

Tunaghost handed him a glass of milk, which he took, wordlessly, drinking from it.

"Ready to leave, I'm sure." She moved toward the door.

He set the glass down carefully, eyes trained on the ground. "Actually," He replied, "I'd like to speak with Agent DarkBooty."

Tunaghost paused at the door. "What do you want to talk to him about? He's very busy."

Zim turned, directing his comments at the camera. "I'm sure he'd like to talk about a change in the deal."

Tunaghost turned, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"Thank you, Agent Tunaghost." DarkBooty entered the room, gesturing out toward the hall. "You're dismissed for the time being."

Tunaghost gripped her pad tightly, shooting DarkBooty a glare as she exited the room. He swung the door shut, turning to face Zim.

Zim forced a casual tone into his voice. "Well. She's sure happy about being taken for a fool, now, isn't she?"

Darkbooty pulled one of the chairs toward himself, straddling it. He eyed Zim suspiciously. "You mentioned a change in the deal. What do you mean, exactly?"

Zim folded his arms, laying his antennae back. "We both know why I'm really here, answering pointless questions and enduring stupid tests. You want to know Zim's limits, so you can match them when you finally catch me and drag me down here for your serious experiments."

DarkBooty raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Circumstances have pushed certain deadlines I have to the forefront." Zim continued. "I am in need of this seven-day period being muchly shortened. I want tomorrow to be the last day."

DarkBooty whistled. "Taking three days off the deal leaves you in pretty serious debt, considering you promised."

Zim set his jaw. "Zim is fully aware of this. For this reason, Zim is prepared to…" He took a deep breath. "Allow slightly more serious testing to be done, today and tomorrow, as long as it is not surgical in nature."

DarkBooty leaned forward slightly. "So, let me get this right. In exchange for knocking three days off, you'll submit to two tests, one today and one tomorrow, of our choosing, as long as it doesn't involve cutting you open?"

Zim gave a short nod.

DarkBooty's mouth curled into a grin. "Deal."

…

That evening, Zim staggered back to the camp, covered in bite marks and gashes. He slumped, exhausted, by the fire, hardly registering that there was a fire where there hadn't been, and food cooking.

Red watched him from across the firepit, eyes narrowing. "Rough time getting supplies?"

Zim rested his head on his knees. "You finally recovered."

"Where did you go?" Red asked lowly.

"Zim is tired."

"Where did you go, Zim?" Red straightened to a formal sitting posture, emphasizing his height.

Zim cringed, antennae lowering in submission. He was too tired to make up a lie. "I've been going to the Swollen Eyeball." He admitted. "I promised to answer their questions and submit to some of their stupid tests in exchange for the med pod."

Red's eyes widened. "You're telling them our secrets?"

"It got you healed, didn't it?" Zim snapped. "Besides, they're not asking super secret questions anyway. Most of them are stupid."

Red frowned. "And the tests?"

Zim licked one of the wounds on his arm, gingerly. "The tests are to determine my individual weaknesses, not the weaknesses of the Irken race as a whole. They have a vendetta against Zim."

"And you're just giving them what they want?" Red stared at him, dumbfounded. "What the flirk are you doing, Zim? What exactly is it that you want from me? What do you think I can give you, that you faced down a Morflar and this… torture-happy freakshow?"

Zim lifted his head, staring tiredly at Tallest Red, before whispering quietly, "I don't know yet."

….

_ That's just it. I don't know even know the question that I need answered. It's just a need, like I had when I called Della Maneem for the first time. I don't understand this need._

_ Will it be worth it? I miss them so much. I miss Mikko and her gentle hugs when it's been a bad day. Somehow she can always tell. I miss Tiana, and her annoying attempts to force makeup on Zim, claiming she needs someone to practice on so she'll be able to do it perfectly. I miss Tom. If leaders on this planet were chosen solely by their admirable traits and personal restraint, Tom would be ruling this world._

_ It was hard enough for Della to forgive me for leaving the first time. She may not forgive me for leaving permanently. I wish with all my spooch that someday… they'll understand. I did it so they would be safe. If something happened to them, the empty would return, and I would break apart._

_ Dib will never understand. Or forgive Zim._

_ I hope you're happy, Gaz. You couldn't have picked a better demand to make Zim miserable._

_ One more day, and I'll be free to leave. I just have to survive one more day._

…

Tunaghost watched the words appear on her computer screen, each stroke of the pen seeding more and more doubt into her mind. She'd been assigned to question him, and report his bugged journal entries for psychological analysis. She had even asked that first question, exactly as DarkBooty had said, prompting a series of entries on the alien's deepest fears.

But they weren't at all what she'd expected them to be. All she heard about the aliens was from DarkBooty. She was sure he exaggerated some things, but all exaggeration sprang from some truth, didn't it? And Zim met her every expectation of the brash, angry, potentially destructive alien that DarkBooty made him out to be.

But away from the Eyeball, his thoughts were mainly toward his family, and their safety. She didn't understand who he kept referring to, what question he was seeking an answer for, but whatever it was, it wasn't world domination. It was something of a much more personal nature.

"Interesting data." DarkBooty nodded toward the screen, approaching from behind.

Tunaghost frowned, turning to face him. "What was so important that you had to send me out of the room?" She demanded. "And why didn't you tell me everything you knew about the subject? You assigned me to this project, I need to know everything there is about him."

"Very sorry." DarkBooty apologized. "I wanted to verify the authenticity of the data the alien offered me before showing you. I suspected he would begin offering data from his personal records in order to decrease his time spent here, but I didn't think it would be so… well… here." He handed her a thumb drive.

Taking it, she plugged it into the computer. She called up the video feed on it, pressing the play button.

"Is that all you've got?" Zim shouted from the screen. His spiderlegs extended outward, covered in liquid of various colors. His arms dripped green liquid, and his chest was stained green as well. He stood, legs planted wide, chest heaving as he glared about. Around him lay the bodies of several aliens, some groaning and attempting to crawl away. Others lying there, far too still.

"Come on!" Zim shouted, hoarse. His eyes flashed defiantly, spittle flying from his mouth. "I dare you! Come and get me, Zim will not go down without a fight!"

DarkBooty shook his head. "He bragged about how he used to take down members of various alien races in arenas. He said he won a lot of money in these kinds of fights."

A door at the far end of the room opened, and a short, squat Irken was shoved in. The creature was dressed in rags, and staggered in on stubby legs. It fell to its knees, panting, and raised its eyes to meet Zim's.

Zim stared at the creature, eyes narrowed. The squat Irken stood to its feet, shakily, and stumbled toward Zim, extending a laser.

Zim took two steps forward, his spiderleg sliding cleanly into the Irken's chest. The Irken dropped to its knees, clutching the spiderleg, as Zim stood there, fists clenched. It looked up at him, mouthing something, before collapsing to the ground.

"He's a killer, Tunaghost." DarkBooty glanced over at her. "I know you're not as experienced with his kind, but nothing good ever comes out of the Irken race. Remember that."

Tunaghost kept her face blank, nodding as she stared at the screen. DarkBooty clapped her on the shoulder, before exiting the room.

Opening up the player controls, she rewound the tape.

On each alien body lying about on the floor, she spotted it. The tiny plastic tag that marked Swollen Eyeball property. She fast forwarded to the moment when Zim speared the squat Irken, focusing on his mouth. She rewound it, replayed it, then rewound it and replayed it again.

Every time it was the same thing. It wasn't hard to make out what the Irken was mouthing.

_Thank you._


	19. Anatomy of an Irken Breakdown

Dib had resumed pacing in his room shortly after returning to his house. He'd forgone sleep, again, choosing to consume copious amounts of caffeine to keep himself awake. Mikko hadn't been able to hold out any longer, falling asleep on the bed. She still refused to leave Dib, sure that he was their best chance of finding Zim again.  
Dib snorted at the thought. _Forget that, Mikko. He doesn't care anymore. Just like Zim to dump "puny humans" for his own kind. He was probably just tolerating us until he could figure out a way to leave._

_You know that's not true._

Dib slammed his fist into the wall. He knew his thoughts were irrational, and his thinking clouded from lack of sleep, but what else was he supposed to think? Zim wouldn't _tell_ him, and he couldn't read the blasted alien's thoughts, and Gaz wasn't budging. Everywhere he turned, he was hitting a wall.

"Can't I get a break?" He muttered, rubbing his fist.

_Ding._

It took Dib exactly two seconds to cross the room and yank open his browser window. He frowned. Nothing had popped up on any alarms or locators. What was—

_Ding._

At the bottom of his screen, a little smiling icon bounced, alerting him to an incoming chat message.

Zim used to chat with him from the moon to gather information about what was going on, was he going to talk finally? Dib sat quickly, opening up the chat.

…

**Mothman659:** zim, this better be you and you'd better be ready to tell me everything.

**Tunaghost437:** Agent Mothman

**Mothman659:** …

**Tunaghost437:** Don't disconnect

**Mothman659:** like hell I won't.

**Tunaghost437:** Need help

**Mothman659:** not interested.

**Tunaghost437:** You owe me for the piggy spells.

**Mothman659:** … what.

**Tunaghost437:** Need you to hack Zim's Eyeball files.

**Mothman659:** why?

**Tunaghost437:** I'm locked out.

**Mothman659:** why would they lock you out?

**Tunaghost437:** I don't know. DarkBooty's planning something. He's not telling me everything.

**Mothman659:** everything about what?

**Tunaghost437:** I've been in charge of questioning Zim

**Mothman659:** YOU HAVE ZIM?

**Tunaghost437:** No. He comes in to answer questions and run endurance tests.

**Mothman659:** why would he come near you?

**Tunaghost437:** Gave him back equipment.

**Mothman659:** that idiot.

**Tunaghost437:** I need to know what happened to Zim. I wasn't there. Zim says one thing, DarkBooty says another.

**Tunaghost437:** Mothman?

**Tunaghost437:** Mothman, you still there?

**Mothman659:** files coming your way.

**Tunaghost437:** ….. fast, as always.

**Mothman659:** you don't believe Darkbooty, do you?

**Tunaghost437:** No.

**Mothman659:** then warn Zim. get him out of there.

**Tunaghost437:** Will do.

**Mothman659:** keep me posted, got it?

**Tunaghost437:** Understood. Tunaghost out.

…..

Red sighed. Why did Zim keep that stupid robot around anyway? He was completely worthless. And worse than worthless when it got hungry. All their supplies, gone like that. Zim had given him the little plastic card to use in the city.

That crazy little Irken would have gone, but Red had shoved him back down, muttering that if Zim was going to be so bullheaded as to keep his stupid promise to the hyuman scum, he needed to rest for the next day. Ignoring the shock on Zim's face, Red demanded that Zim explain how to purchase supplies from the hyumans.

Zim had pulled the card out. "Just give it to the service drone hyumans," he'd explained from his bedroll, "And take it back when they give it to you, then it's paid, and you can go."

"Simple enough." Red nodded, donning his patch. It didn't take him long to locate the grocery store they'd been at the day before. Zim had provided him with a list of foods that were Irken safe, so he had an idea of what to purchase. He pulled out a wheeled food-conveyance device, picking up things on the list and setting them inside. He felt ridiculous, pushing it around like every other filthy life form in the building, but this was a survival situation.

_If only I could contact Pur. The Massive must be at least a galaxy away if I can't get ahold of him_.

Until then, he was stuck with Zim. Zim, who made absolutely no sense at all. He still remembered the disgusting sensation of his own claws, covered in the acidic solution, carving the word "Mekrelmar" into Zim's forehead. It didn't matter how many layers of bone and skin Zim regrew, the engraving would always be there. Along with the memories of the torture inflicted on him, at the explicit order of himself and Purple. And, of course, the formal discharge from Invader duties, the dramatic revelation of his status as a universal joke.

He winced a little, recalling to mind the expression on the Invader's face. He'd thought it was really funny then. They'd even declared it a galactic holiday, all while Zim stared on from the screen.

Now, Zim given up everything that, according to him, brought him happiness, in order to bring back one of the people most responsible for his unhappiness. Not even on this backwards planet did that make an ounce of sense. Zim wasn't telling him everything, and he wasn't happy about it. On the other hand, there wasn't a lot he could do about it. As much as he hated to admit it, he was in the tiny Irken's debt now. It wasn't like he could dump him off a cliff or beat the answers out of him, especially since he continued to shield Red from—whatever it was he was shielding Red from. Most likely more than just that horrible Morflar.

Besides… Zim knew how to navigate without the emotion filter. Red wasn't stupid. He knew any little thing could set him off, and Irk only knew what would happen then. He had to learn stability without it, but that could take awhile.

He blinked, then cursed quietly. He'd been pushing the conveyance absently, not seeing anything. He probably missed some foods. He released the cart, turning quickly. He hit something soft, and pulled back, startled, as the woman he'd bumped into caught her balance.

"I'm sorry," she winced, keeping her eyes lowered. "I didn't see you, very sorry."

He stared at her, eyes wide. He could feel a tremble begin in the tips of his claws, and work its way up his arms.

"Good evening." She brushed past him, rounding the corner toward the bread aisle.

His knees buckled, sending him sprawling to the ground.

_They pulled out her eyes and shoved them in your face._

_ Rip them out, rip them out of her face for resisting you!_

_ Pulling you away from your mother, you couldn't do anything._

_ Kill them all. Tear them out of her arms, kill them._

_ Maneem's eyes, the most beautiful shade of purple._

_ Long, flowing purple hair, like nothing his kind could ever produce._

A long, deep groan issued from the core of his being. He pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, grinding them into his face.

_Maneem, Maneem, I've been looking for you all along… what have I done?_

…_._

**Note: **If you get what's going on… Red is very, very screwed up. His psyche was more than shattered by what happened with his mother, and he continued to recreate the scenario over, and over, and over, without realizing it. And he just figured it out, after bumping into Gloria in the supermarket.


	20. The Trap is Set

**Note:** So kids, the moral of this Author's Note is, you abso-freaking-lutely will burn out on writing for a good long time if you attempt to write 8 chapters over the course of 3 days. However, being sick as a dog and not being able to do much else at the moment, thought I'd attempt to re-establish Danem.

…

Footsteps approached the tent, and Zim pushed himself up. He was still sore, but feeling better. It had been several hours, and darkness had settled in the tent. Evening, he guessed. That was probably Red.

He paused. Red didn't have a step that heavy. And this didn't sound like someone who was loaded down with supplies.

The entrance to the tent unzipped, flipping back. Zim started as a pair of glowing blue eyes peered in.

_No, not eyes, those are—_

"Located. Finally." Professor Membrane sighed, rubbing his forehead as he stepped into the tent. "Well, there you are, come along then."

Zim stayed exactly where he was, frozen. _Gaz will murder me._

"Ah, you are probably wondering why I am here, aren't you?" The Professor smiled tiredly, oblivious to Zim's alarm. "Yes, well, your reasons for running off, whatever they may be, are your own of course. Dib wouldn't tell me, your family wouldn't tell me, so I had to utilize the most advanced tracker known to mankind." Outside the tent, a low cluck sounded, followed by a scratching. Membrane grinned proudly. "Our latest in engineering has produced the perfect tracker. Once the common chicken, now the pinnacle of search and rescue technology! Nice of you to leave some clothes behind for a scent."

Zim stared at him, still dumbfounded. Of all the people who he thought would try to find him, the Professor was not one of them. The Professor was no longer antagonistic toward him, but he more or less chose to ignore his presence whenever they were in the same building, or near each other.

"You need to leave." Zim stood to his feet. "Now. You're endangering—" He paused. The Professor would probably like nothing better than to get his hands on Red. "You're endangering my mission."

"Listen, little alien," Membrane pinched the bridge of his nose, ignoring the dirty look Zim shot him. "I've been out here for a long time, looking for you. It's cold, I'm exhausted, and hungry. Your mission may be important, but I wouldn't be out here if this wasn't more important."

Zim glared. "You know nothing of my mission, you couldn't possibly begin to comprehend the importance of it." _Not that I do yet. _"Zim is not returning with you, or anyone else that is looking for Zim."

Membrane exhaled slowly. "Little alien, I am not inclined to use force, but I will if I have to. Gloria wants to talk to you, and—"

"Her?" Incredulous, Zim scowled. "She can want nothing to do with me. Surely she told you what she knows of my parentage, and by association, you must know as well, so why in all flirk are you out here hunting Zim down?"

Membrane stared at him. "Zim," he said, placing weight on the alien's name, "We know who your father is, yes. We also know who your mother is, something you seem to have failed to figure out, or even attempt to discover."

Zim stared at him for a moment, as his mind scrambled to assemble facts.

_He knows that I consider Della to be my mother, so he is not speaking of her, but of a biological mother._

_ Mrs. Membrane sent him out to find me, even after learning of my connection with Tallest Red._

_ Gaz has desperately wanted me gone ever since she found out Red was my father, but was that really the full extent of her motive?_

Quietly, Zim asked, "Who is my Mother?"

Membrane turned his face away slightly, unable to look Zim in the eyes. "My wife." He replied shortly. "Gloria."

For a moment, there was silence in the tent. Then a small giggle escaped Zim, followed by a chuckle, and a laugh, and then a howl of hysteria as he hugged his sides, tears streaming down his face. Alarmed, the Professor took a step back.

Zim kept laughing. "Oh, oh this is wonderful, the universe… is purely cruel. There is no good thing in it that goes uncrushed. Not a single thing!" He gasped through the laughter, "Not only do I have a Danem who never wanted me, and doesn't even know of my connection to him, I have a Maneem who thinks I'm a monster because of HIM."

"Zim," Membrane started, "She doesn't—"

"Don't flirking lie to me!" Zim roared, springing to his feet. "She screamed it after me as I ran out the door, I know exactly what she thinks of me! I have no interest in hearing it again, Professor, it will not happen." He took a deep breath, attempting to still his nerves. "You have wasted your time, Professor. Zim is not going with you. By tomorrow, Zim will be gone from your city entirely. Do not continue to look for me." Extending a spiderleg, he sliced through the back of the tent, springing through the opening he created. As Membrane stepped forward to follow, Zim sliced through the poles holding it up, allowing the structure to collapse around Membrane.

As the scientist struggled to find the opening, Zim leaped into a nearby tree, where GIR was pulling his best woodpecker impression, and grabbed the bot. He whispered a brief instruction to GIR, before releasing him, and scampering off into the night on his spiderlegs.

He made straight for the city dump, where the Swollen Eyeball HQ lay. He knew why Gaz wanted him gone so badly, and now that the Professor had successfully tracked him down, she would come to collect if he and Red weren't gone within hours. He had to run through that final test now, and then they had to leave.

….

Dib's cell had barely rung before he'd snatched it up, barking, "What? Do you know something about Zim?"

"Dib, is Mikko still with you?" Della's voice sounded on the other end, panicked.

Dib sighed. "Yes ma'am. Can you please tell her to—"

"Is Tiana there too?"

Frowning, Dib answered, "No, she never came over, why?"

"She's not in her room! We saw her go upstairs, but then we heard some noises and went upstairs. She's gone! Please tell me she sneaked out to go to your house!"

Dib's eyes widened. "No, ma'am, she didn't, she's not here, just Mikko." A muffled sob sounded in his ear, and he heard Tom in the background, mentioning the police. "What's going on?"

"Dib, if you have any ins with the Swollen Eyeball still, please please use them!" Della begged. "We found a photo of Tiana on the floor, weighed down by a scalpel."

Dib's blood ran cold. "Della, listen to me, this is very important. Are the police there?"

"Yes."

"Are news crews there?"

"Yes."

"You need to keep the news crews from seeing that picture and the scalpel, whatever you do!"

"They've already photographed everything, Dib."

Dib slammed his fist into the wall. "Why would you let them do that?" He shouted. "Don't you get it? It's a direct threat to Zim. Not even a threat, it's an ultimatum! As soon as that story is splashed across the news, Zim won't have a choice but to trade himself for Tiana! Yes, Della, the Swollen Eyeball most likely has Tiana!"

A loud clatter sounded on the line as Della's sobs faded into the background.

Flipping his phone shut, Dib turned to his computer, eyes burning. Time to pull out all the stops. Zim was coming home whether he liked it or not. They would sort this situation out together, but no way in hell was he letting Zim go through this twice.


	21. The Noose Tightens

**Note:** One more today, since you all had to wait so long for me—again. And while I have your attention, please search StoryTrollers on Youtube, CJ and I have been working really hard on improving the show and getting it off the ground.

….

By the time Zim reached the outskirts of the city, he realized he was shaking. He'd pushed himself harder in the past few days than he had in quite awhile, and he hadn't eaten much. He would need all his strength for whatever test the stupid Eyeballs threw at him last, he decided, so he turned aside to enter a run-down donut shop, donning his disguise patch as he did so.

Tallest Red still had his monies-card, but Zim had a small amount of cash on hand, enough for a meal or two. Ordering a dozen of the sugary pastries, he sat at a table in the corner to devour them. Truly, the donut was the perfect Irken food, combining sugar with carbohydrates to provide fast, efficient energy.

Licking the sugary glaze off his claws, he glanced up, noting the badly flickering TV on the wall, listing a bit to the side. Its purchase, he guessed, was probably a desperate attempt to interest customers in staying and buying more food. He watched it with disinterest as he lifted the last donut to his mouth. The donut froze in place as images of Della and Tom flickered onto the screen.

Bolting to his feet, Zim rushed to the TV, fumbling with the volume knob.

"Sound's busted." The shop worker mumbled around a mouthful of gum.

Zim stared at the screen, trying to figure out what was going on. Della was crying, Tom was holding her, looking angry and worried… He didn't see Mikko or Tiana anywhere. There was Tiana, or a photo of her, being held down by… a….

Zim sank to the floor, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to the ground in an attempt to hold back the scream trying to force its way out of his throat.

_I should have known better…_

_WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST LEAVE?_

He didn't have to look up to know whose voice was ringing in his head.

"I had to find out—"

_FIND OUT WHAT? _A flare lifted him off the ground, slamming him into the wall of the shop. He grimaced as his hologram flickered out. _WHAT IS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU HAVE TO DESTROY TWO FAMILIES TO FIND OUT?_

Zim choked. "If it made any difference… if he could be proud of me if I was his son… if he'd known that, would he have treated me differently… I can take everything he did to me, if I could just know that he would have made different choices if he knew…"

Gaz stared at him, incredulously. _You put everyone at risk, for that?_

Zim gritted his teeth, vision blurred. "Gaz, please, can you get Tiana out? The Eyeballs, I can tell you where they are, it's the City Sewer—"

_Not that you don't owe me enough already, but I can't come within thirty feet of their stupid headquarters. They want to protect their Irken specimens from predators like myself, and they have a sonic barrier enclosing it from all sides._

Zim slumped. "Then you need to let me go now."

_What?_

"I'm going to make this right."

_What are you talking about? You can't make this right, I'm taking Red back, and you're going home to sort this out from there._

Zim grabbed a napkin dispenser from a nearby table and hurled it at her head. It sailed right through, hitting the counter behind her with a clank. Startled, she dropped him. He stood, glaring. "You are not going to touch Red, because Zim is going to keep his promises. ALL of them. I'm going to disappear, and never bother your family again. I'm going in to the Swollen Eyeball for their stupid final test. And I am going to protect my family if it's the last thing I do!"

Gaz stared at him incredulously. _Zim… it WILL be the last thing you do, if you're about to do what I think you are._

Zim snarled, "Then so be it! Isn't that what you wanted from the start, SISTER dear?"

Gaz shrank back slightly.

Zim growled, "Your father tracked me down and told me. Thank you ever so much for giving me the full picture right from the start, it saved me so much trouble and helped me understand exactly why you needed Zim gone, wait, YOU TOLD ME HALF OF WHAT I NEEDED TO KNOW!" Zim turned toward the door. "Don't touch Tallest Red, Gaz. All promises are going to be kept, in spite of you, in spite of every flirking thing in this universe that is out to get me." With that, he bolted out of the building, past the terror-stricken shop-worker, heading straight for the Sewers.

It didn't take him long to find the now-familiar manhole cover. He stared down at it, feeling his claws start to tremble. He knew what awaited him on the other side.

_You've endured before,_ he tried to assure himself. _You can endure again._

_ This is different. You didn't have a choice before, you were traded to them. This time you can walk away, you can run and hide, and never come back._

The manhole cover slide aside, even before he knocked, and he knew they were waiting for him. Watching him. That even this was part of their sick, psychological warfare on his mind.

And still he knelt at the lip of the hole, trying to breathe through the terror constricting his chest. He had the power to walk away, he had the ability to leave, and he was about to willingly hand over all control of the situation to his worst enemies.

But if he didn't…

"I won't let anything happen to her…" He clutched the rim of the hole. "Not to her, not to any of them. Not ever." Turning around, he grasped the first few rungs of the ladder, and began his descent.


	22. Said the Spider to the Fly

**Note:** The short answer is… yes… I do enjoy torturing Zim. However, he will always climb out of it stronger, at least in this series. Always.

…

By the time Zim reached the bottom of the chute, he had forced his features into a stony mask. Enough control was about to be stripped from him, he would come into this defiant, he decided.

Besides, there was still a sliver of hope. If he was gone long enough, then GIR could still report his location to the authorities. Perhaps if he just had to endure a short while.

His feet hit the floor, and he turned around to face Agent Tunaghost.

Tunaghost stood there, stiffly, gripping a clipboard. "You're here for the final test, then?"

Zim paused. Was it possible she was still not aware of the full situation? Had DarkBooty kept her out of the loop on what he had done? "Yes." He responded carefully.

Tunaghost nodded. "DarkBooty is waiting for you. He wants to speak with you alone."

Zim's spine stiffened. "I figured." He turned to face the hall.

Tunaghost set a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. Very quietly, she whispered, "You need to get out of here. DarkBooty's planning something. I pulled your files, you weren't lying. It isn't safe here."

Reaching a hand up, he removed hers from his shoulder, still staring forward. "You're too late, Agent TunaGhost." He started walking forward. "He already has me by the throat."

"What do you mean?" She followed after him.

Zim shook his head, marching loudly to drown out the moans. "You should get out more and watch the news. It's very informative."

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, Agent. It doesn't concern you anymore. I'm not your case, and I won't be your problem."

"Zim, you need to leave, now, you don't understand!"

"No, Agent, you don't understand. You haven't understood from the start, and it's too late to start understanding now. Is this the door?"

Tunaghost hesitated, her knuckles whitening. "Yes."

Zim put a hand on the door, bracing himself. "Goodbye Agent Tunaghost. You were slightly less repulsive than most of the Eyeballs I've had to deal with, and I suggest getting out before the rest taint you completely."

Tunaghost's lips parted in surprise as Zim swung the door open and entered, closing it behind him.

DarkBooty stood in a small observation room, facing a one-way mirror, his back to Zim. Briefly, Zim considered skewering him through the back, but what would that gain him? The whole base would descend on him in seconds and he'd be little more than a stain on the floor.

Walking forward, he brought himself level with DarkBooty, staring forward as well. Through the glass, he could see Tiana. She'd been seated in a chair, blindfolded, her wrists taped to the chair arms. He noted, with no small surge of anger, the bruises on her cheek and arms.

"It really is a shame." DarkBooty shook his head. "All of our Irken specimens seem to have expired. We're in need of another one, to make sure we understand all we can about the coming threat. Unfortunately, some sacrifices have to be made for that to happen."

Zim stared at Tiana. Red was no longer an issue, and he doubted that the "Breeding program" continued after Red had been devoured, but the Empire had no shortage of inventive uses for alien prisoners, none of which he could stand to consider Tiana being subjected to.

"You and I both know that's a load of cow dooky Agent." Zim said quietly. "You abducted her in particular because you knew I would do anything for this family."

DarkBooty folded his arms, still staring forward. "If you want to put it that way, you are free to do so."

Zim crossed his arms over his chest as well. "What are your terms?" He asked, keeping his eyes fixed.

"Unconditional surrender of all rights and freedoms."

Zim's antennae quivered slightly, but he kept his voice steady. "That's a steep price for the one-time rescue of this girl. Who's to say someone doesn't break me out, and this whole situation doesn't repeat itself?"

"You propose an amendment?" DarkBooty raised an eyebrow.

"That this family, and the Membrane family, be forever excluded from any further involvement with Swollen Eyeball activities, that they will never be harassed or injured further due to their involvement with Zim."

Darkbooty nodded. "Agreed."

Zim paused. He had agreed rather readily, as if the idea that Zim might be broken free was not worrisome to him.

DarkBooty glanced toward him for the first time since he entered the room. "Did you think we didn't have a contingency plan in place for that robot of yours?"

Zim's eyes widened.

DarkBooty pulled out a small remote, and pressed a button, then slipped it back in his pocket. Resuming his forward stare, he said simply, "Your robot is gone now."

…..

Red stumbled toward the forest, clutching the packages of food. He had to figure out what to do. He had to talk to Zim, they had to leave. He had to get away and sort out these thoughts, all these crazy thoughts and feelings… WHY did it feel like there was broken glass inside him?

A small blur slammed into his middle, sending all the packages flying.

"Heeeeeey Taco!" GIR beamed. "I gotta message from masta, he says we gotta go now, cause man in white's there, found us. He's gonna go to the SQUISHY EYES an' then come back, so we gotta go… THAT WAY!" GIR pointed. "Meet him by the biggest tree! With all the squirrels and nuts!"

Red shoved him off. "Fine, then we'll meet Zim there, just show me where." He gathered the packages with shaky hands.

"You okay Taco? You look like you gonna be SICK."

"I'm not sick, I'm fine. Nothing's wrong." He fumbled a few of the packages, cursing.

"Lemme try—" GIR's eyes widened, spinning in his head. "BOOBOOS!"

Red glanced up. "What?"

GIR wrung his hands, his head jerking back and forth as he looked around. "Big booboos! All over, booboos, all coming! From my head! Oh!" He looked at Red, and his eyes filled up. "I'm sorry Taco, gotta protect Taco like Master says! Tell Master GIR be good!" His feet glowed as his rockets shot him into the sky.

Red tilted his head back in confusion. Why was the robot flying away right after telling him they had to go? "Hey!" He shouted. "Come back, we have to—"

BOOM.

The explosion knocked Red back to the ground, flinging the packages all around. His eyes locked onto where the robot had been last in the sky… but all he could see was smoke, and embers floating down.

Slowly, he stood to his feet, a sense of panic rising in his gut. If Zim's robot had just exploded, after Zim was making his last visit to the Eyeball, it was reasonable to assume the Eyeball wasn't releasing Zim, and that they wanted to make sure the robot wouldn't alert the authorities.

"Where does that leave me?" Red flung his arms out. "What am I supposed to do now?"

_Start a conversation with me. And sit down. If you think your head is reeling now, you're about to lose whatever marbles you have left._

Red slowly turned around, to see his worst nightmare towering over him. The last thing he heard, before he lost consciousness, was an irritated groan.

_Irkens are way too jumpy for their own good._

….

"What do you want from me?" Zim roared, grabbing DarkBooty by the shirt. "You have what you want in the palm of your hand, you have all the power, you have all the control, what more do you want from Zim?"

DarkBooty's eyes darkened. "I want you to know, in the deepest part of whatever you Irkens claim as souls, that there is nothing in this universe that cares about your suffering."

Zim released DarkBooty's shirt, stepping back.

DarkBooty stepped forward. "That there is not a single person who would care, at this point, for the pain you are about to go through, because you threw them all away."

Zim felt his PAK hit the wall as he backed up against it, DarkBooty still advancing.

"That you will die down here, alone, and within a few years, you will be entirely forgotten, by your own kind, and the human race. You'll be a dot in our history books, the freak alien that was discovered, and lived among us for awhile before disappearing."

Zim slid down to the floor, unable to control the trembling in his limbs.

DarkBooty turned toward the door, opening it. "Get him out of here, and release the girl to her cell."

"Five minutes," Zim croaked, "I want five minutes…" He pushed himself up, barely holding together. "With the girl. To make sure you haven't damaged her too badly, before she goes back."

DarkBooty shook his head. "You can have all the time you want with her in between experiments. She isn't leaving our HeadQuarters, ever. We can't afford a leak, if she heard or saw anything."

Zim protested, "But you—"

"She won't be sent to your kind, be grateful I'm not using her to get an extra specimen." DarkBooty left the room, leaving Zim to crumble on the floor, devoid of any emotion but despair.

…..

**Note:** Ladies and gentlemen, Zim has officially hit rock bottom. He can only go up from here, right?... probably…. Cause I don't think there's much lower he can go…


	23. Assembling a Rescue

Dib bit his lip, trying to hold back shouts of frustration as he was blocked yet again. The Swollen Eyeball network had gotten better. He'd been able to retrieve old files, but their current location was guarded with too many layers of security. It looked like they'd taken coding from Irken PAKs and combined it with some of Earth's best tech to produce a thick firewall he just couldn't break through. It kept changing back and forth, frustrating every effort he put out.

He glanced over his shoulder. When Mikko had woken up, he'd given her a glass of juice with a sedative. If she knew he was planning on going after Zim, she'd come too, and Zim would murder him if anything happened to Mikko too. At least, that was what he told himself. It wasn't like he was worried about her.

He was in the middle of re-opening the first layer, when the monitor pinged. A message had come in, a chat from Tunaghost. Abandoning the code, he pulled up the chat window.

**Tunaghost437: **Mothman you need to come in now. Zim came in talking like he knew he was doomed, but came anyway. I don't know what's going on, but he was escorted down the hall in handcuffs just now.

**Mothman659: **they took his sister hostage ghost, you didn't know?

**Tunaghost437: **DarkBooty wouldn't!

**Mothman659: **he did, ghost. look on the news.

**Tunaghost437: **Zim said something about the news.

**Mothman659: **you gotta tell me where the hq is.

**Tunaghost437: **I can't tell you! You're not an Eyeball anymore.

**Mothman659: **tunaghost they're gonna hurt him. bad. you saw the files.

**Tunaghost437: **You'll tear the place down around our ears! Between you and Zim we've already lost two headquarters.

Dib took a few slow breaths. His best chance of getting in was Tunaghost, he had to convince her.

**Mothman659: **get me the cam where they have zim, ghost.

**Tunaghost437: **Why?

**Mothman659: **just do it.

For a few minutes, nothing happened. Then a window popped up with a loading bar. When it reached the end, it opened up onto a laboratory scene. A lab table had been set up already, with several trays of sharp tools lined up along the side. The door swung open, and Zim was escorted in. The Irken's ruby eyes took in the scene before him, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

Dib's throat tightened, as he saw the shaking start working its way up Zim's body. And yet he was not dragged forward. The scientists flanked him, but stood there, watching and waiting for him to move forward on his own.

Bile rose in Dib's throat. He reached for the keyboard.

**Mothman659: **look what theyre doing to him. they're making him do this himself even. booty's killing his spirit. cause they have tiana, zim doesn't even get to put up a fight. ghost PLEASE.

There was a long pause, as Dib watched Zim close his eyes, still his limbs, and take the first step forward.

Abruptly the window closed, the connection termination. Dib scrambled to re-establish the connection, but nothing worked.

**Mothman659: **ghost are you there? ghost?

**Tunaghost437: **The city sewers, sending coordinates now.

Dib almost shouted for joy.

**Mothman659: **get clear asap. i'll tear it apart if that's what it takes to get him back.

**Tunaghost437: **No. Going to do what I can from inside.

**Mothman659: **stay clear then.

**Tunaghost437: **Hurry. Tunaghost out.

…**..**

Tunaghost stared at the screen. She'd terminated Dib's view of the lab, but it remained on her own monitor. Zim had walked himself to the table and seated himself on it. Only then had the scientists moved to strap him in place. Zim fixed his eyes on a ceiling panel, staring at it.

DarkBooty entered, walking over to the table. Pausing a moment, he leaned over the table to whisper something to Zim. The alien closed his eyes, his claws tightening into fists as he turned his head away from DarkBooty.

Agent DarkBooty chuckled, gloving up. Tunaghost could see Zim flinch at every horrible rubber scrunching sound the gloves made. She wondered briefly, if he lived through all this, if he would have a similar reaction every time he heard thick rubber scrunching.

"Why are you doing this to him, Booty?" Tunaghost tapped the screen. "He's not a threat…" Less than a threat. This alien had the potential to be a productive member of human society. Was he violent? Of course, but given the circumstances Zim had glossed over—if they were even half as bad as he made them out to be—it was remarkable that he was as well behaved as he was now. DarkBooty had worked with the alien division more than any of them, he had to know the signs of a true alien threat, why was he doing this? Why had he been doing this to the other aliens they'd captured?

It didn't add up. But it didn't matter. She had a priority, and that was making sure Mothman got in and out with Zim. She would try to contain the damage to the Swollen Eyeball, but if DarkBooty had lost sight of reality for some vendetta… well, perhaps the Swollen Eyeball needed a fresh start with a new head of that department anyway. Being scattered to find a new HeadQuarters might do the trick.

DarkBooty laid an instrument against Zim's bared chest. Tunaghost minimized the window, unable to watch. She had to get coordinates to Mothman. The second backdoor would do nicely, it was least patrolled being closest to the stinkiest part of the area. But if Mothman really wanted in, he'd do it.

A high, shrill scream emitted from her speakers. Her fingers froze on the keys, eyes wide.

"They…. They aren't… anesthetizing him?"

Her shock only lasted another second, before her fingers began flying over the keyboard. With coordinates set for Mothman, she turned and bolted from the room, her speakers still screeching. She had urgent business near the second backdoor.

…**..**

Groaning, Red opened his eyes, trying to gather his senses. He wasn't quite sure what happened, or why he was on his side all curled up, but at least he was conscious. Gingerly pushing himself up, he turned his head to take in his surroundings.

He lay on a bare patch of earth back at the campsite he and Zim had put together. The tent had collapsed, and a tall Irken sat near the firepit, staring at the charcoal remains.

He blinked, peering at the Irken, something in his thoughts clamoring for attention.

The Irken turned to face him, and his mouth dropped open.

"Maneem?"

_I'm sure it would be nice for you if I were. However I am not. And before you go passing out again, do appreciate that I took the time to find the most comforting person in your mind and take on their appearance so you wouldn't completely lose your mind._

Red recoiled. Her mouth didn't even move as the thoughts landed in his head.

_Well, it's a step in the right direction that you didn't faint again._

For a moment, Red considered running. Just getting up and running as fast as he could. He dismissed the idea, no living being could outrun a morflar. Running would only lengthen the amount of time she toyed with him.

He hid his face in his knees, trying to brace himself for the nightmare to come.

_Well. From the smell of you you're experiencing a slight taste of the hopelessness your son is currently experiencing._

Why wasn't she eating him yet? Zim had been taken, there wasn't anything or anyone on this planet to keep her from it.

_You will look at me now, Irken. Right now. Because I have very important information for you._

Red shivered, forcing his head up. He blinked, seeing that Gaz, in her shapeshifted resemblance of his Maneem, had turned her face back to glare at the charcoal. Whether it was to keep from unnerving him with a stare, or whether she was deep in thought, he was unsure.

_There is very little time. The reason Zim bartered for your freedom was simply, he discovered that you are his biological parent._

Red blinked, giving a nervous laugh. "That's… that's not possible. Zim is only slightly younger than myself."

_Indeed. That is what happens when you throw a smeet through an untested time device. Moron._

Red sucked in a breath, feeling a hard knot settle in his spooch. Nearly every one of the specimens birthed from Prisoner XA-546 had been sent to the laboratories for study and disposal, but two, he had ordered tossed through the new Time-Object Displacement Device, to test it.

His eyes stung. _Specimens? Prisoner XA-546? _He covered his eyes, pushing the palms of his bony hands into his eyeballs. _Smeets… they were my smeets…I killed all of them._

_ It's too late for most of them, you and I know that much._ Gaz straightened a little, staring ahead now. _But Zim survived. He survived, and he fought for you. I think he hoped for your approval. He gave up everything for it. And right now, he's in a very bad place for most aliens to be._ She finally turned to stare blandly at him. _If you want to see him alive and in one piece, I suggest you head to the City dump as fast as you can. That way._ She pointed. _Look for anything out of the ordinary in terms of an opening. You're a Tallest. I'm sure you know what to look for._ She rose, shifting back into her normal little girl form. _As for me, I'm going to go comfort my mother. There is obviously nothing I can do to keep further Irken interference from my family, as my family is hell-bent on embracing Irken interference._

With that, Gaz turned on her heel, and walked toward the city.

Red stared after her, dumbly, only one phrase ringing in his head.

_Zim survived._

"Zim survived!" Red sprang to his feet, vaulting in the direction Gaz had pointed.

…**..**

Membrane staggered along behind the chicken, giving the leash as much slack as he could. The feathered creature kept its beak low to the ground, tail in the air, clucking softly as it scented the trail.

When he found that little alien, Membrane promised himself, he'd give him a stern talking to about running off like that without hearing an explanation. That would set him straight. Then he'd restrain him and deliver him home in handcuffs if he had to.

He shook his head. That was the exhaustion thinking for him. He hadn't slept since Gloria had told him. He'd spent every hour searching for Zim.

Gloria's son.

By that monster.

He lifted his goggles briefly, rubbing his eyes. It wasn't the little alien's fault. If anything, Zim had done well by Gloria, as best he could. Repairing her eyes had been a noble thing to do, something he hadn't been required to do at all.

It would definitely be a very odd little family by the time this day was over, he mused.

The chicken gave out a loud squawk, and plunked itself down. On rising, Membrane could see a small egg had been laid in the dirt.

They had trained the chicken to lay an egg when the trail ended, or if too many scents obscured the trail. Membrane looked around, realizing where he was, and decided on the latter.

"The city dump?" He blinked. "Odd… but I suppose if one wanted to hide oneself…"

Tying the leash to a nearby hydrant, he fed the chicken a treat, then turned to the dump, bracing himself for an unpleasant search.

…**..**

**Primary processor terminated. Secondary processor activated. Senses update.**

** Taste. Negative.**

** Touch. A small furry animal is attempting to hide food in the left leg.**

** Sight. Negative. No eyes.**

** Sound. Auditory processes damaged, but functional.**

** Smell. Negative.**

** Current available senses: Touch. Partial audio.**

** Immediate missive: Repair. Locate Irken equipment.**

** Located. Equipment housed in Government HeadQuarters. 146 miles East. Fuel sufficient to reach destination in 30 minutes. Activating jets.**

** Arriving at location. Small furry animal clinging to left leg. Left leg is wet.**

** Crash through ceiling. Audio indicates alarms sounding. Must locate equipment.**

** Equipment located. Plugging in, directing rebuilding of primary processor as mandated by Tallests. Unlocking blueprints, uploading.**

** Bullets hitting the back. Falling off. Pick up furry animal, open chest, place inside. Unsafe outside.**

** Primary processor rebuilding. Blueprint must be followed. Sample of primary native lifeforms required. Small furry animal is not primary native lifeform.**

** Audio units indicate voices. Intelligent beings. Left arm reach, collect sample. Lifeform slightly damaged. Assessment based on angle and velocity of collection: Light scratch. Lifeform will survive.**

** Begin phase two of blueprint instructions.**

** Phase one complete. Primary processor rebuilt…. Rebuilt… **_**rebuilt…**__rebuilt….. _

_ Master…_ _MASTER!_

…**..**

**Note: **Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets now, because one of the rescuers-Tunaghost, Dib, Membrane, Red, GIR-is not leaving that HQ alive… who do YOU think it is, and why? Hint: Think like me. What would cause the most devastation to another character, with the potential for long-term redemption in, say, the next story in the series?

By the way, you all can thank CHIKARAfiction for rescuing GIR. I was all set to kill him off entirely in that last chapter. But CHIKARAfiction had a better idea that will fit into the next couple stories nicely, so I went with it. Don't worry, if his coming back doesn't make sense in this chapter, it will before the fic is over. I promise.

By the way, I listen to Portal soundtrack music to set the tone for chapters lately. Freaking creepy stuff when you listen to it by itself (no visuals). But perfect really.


	24. See No Evil

**Note:** Concerning your predictions… interesting…. And just to ease any misgivings, the death I have planned is not for shock value. It does serve a purpose in the next installment in this series. Promise. Also, some of you may begin noticing Booty's actions are not making logical sense. These points will not be explained in this story, but in later ones. Look, I'm planning ahead! That like…. Never happens! Just know, I will wrap up plot holes, because they're not plot holes, they're part of the larger story arc.

….

_Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Keep breathing._

Zim lay on the concrete floor of his cell, where he had been deposited moments before, soaking in the smooth, cold feeling pressing against his body. His mind viciously replayed every slicing, stabbing sensation that took place over the last hour. Booty had opened him up again, taking enough care to ensure he didn't cut in the exact same place as last time. It was almost, Zim noted, as if he enjoyed leaving further scars. They had examined his organs, a process which Zim had opted to keep his eyes closed for, and removed tissue samples from his heart and spooch, the only two organs they could find.

They had employed primitive tactics to remove a tooth for testing. The tooth didn't matter, it would grow back, but they had crushed several other teeth along with the one they extracted.

Zim pulled his legs in toward his stomach, curling up. Booty's actions were anything but scientific curiosity. Zim had seen his type before, the hyuman enjoyed the agony he was causing Zim. He was a torturer, not a scientist.

_It doesn't matter. You've been through torture too. You can survive._

_What for? What reason do I have to survive now?_

Zim gritted his teeth, then winced, loosening his jaw. Those teeth would need to be removed so new ones could grow, he realized, prodding his mouth gently. But his mind inexorably drew him back to the question. Nobody knew where he was, nobody cared where he was anymore.

_You don't have a brother in this building._

_ You monster!_

_ What do you want from me?_

_ There is nothing in this universe that cares about your suffering._

He balled a hand into a fist, pressing his forehead into the ground. On top of everything, they wouldn't release Tiana. Granted, they wouldn't turn her over to the Irken Empire, but was life in the Swollen Eyeball cages any better? And what did they plan on doing with a human captive anyway?

He groaned. What did it matter? There was no point in his attempt to analyze the situation, there was no way out of it, and DarkBooty obviously planned on keeping him around for a very long time. One hand slipped under the thin shirt they'd given him, feeling the stitches laced up and across his torso. They hadn't botched it like the first time, Booty wanted to make sure he survived the process. Over. And over. And over.

A frightened sob rang out from some corner of the cell. Only a few moments had passed from his placement in the cell, he must have been noticed by the original occupant. He could sense something rushing toward him, but he didn't have the energy to fight it off. He tensed, bracing for an attack.

Arms encircled him, pulling him up. His stitches strained in protest and he cringed. "AH! Gentle!" He pleaded with whatever held him.

The crying just intensified as the grip relaxed slightly. A hand grabbed his own—five fingers, soft and rounded tips—and pressed it to a face we with tears. The water burned, his skin smoking slightly, but it was a minor sting compared to his recent surgery.

He lifted his head slightly, willing his eyes to focus on the form crouched over him. "Tiana?" He croaked.

In spite of himself, his analytical thoughts kicked in.

_Black eye. Bruises on face and arms. Probably fought capture._

_ No gag, no blindfold, no bonds. They just locked her in here._

_ Red puffy eyes, has been crying for a long time. Probably frightened by the kidnapping._

_ Smells like sick….. why would she have thrown up?_

His eyes drifted around the cell, and then locked on a screen in the upper right corner of the side wall. The screen that displayed a laboratory table, covered in green blood. Two scientists had just begun cleaning the area, and sterilizing the tools.

_Red puffy eyes…. Smells like sick…. They put that screen there to make her watch what happened._

Zim snapped, "Close your eyes!"

Tiana flinched. "Wh—but…"

"I am Zim, I am your brother, and you will listen to me, now close your eyes!"

Tiana closed them, shuddering as tears leaked out.

Zim took a deep breath, pushing himself up carefully. "Tiana," he said quietly, "Listen to Zim now. This is a very bad place. They do terrible things here, but you haven't seen any terrible things yet."

Tiana shook her head, scrubbing her eyes. "Yes I did, I saw—"

"You saw nothing." Zim said firmly. "They… like to show people really bad things that didn't happen. Holograms, smeet. It was just a hologram. Like a bad movie."

Tiana lifted her head slightly, her eyes starting to open. "Reall—"

"Do not open your eyes!" Zim rasped. Tiana clenched them immediately. "Listen to me, smeet. You can't open your eyes here. Not ever, not once. They want to show you bad things, to scare you and make you feel bad. None of those bad things are happening." He felt every incision in his body burn in contradiction. "It's just a horrible movie. Zim is perfectly fine. See." He took her hand, and placed it on his face, forcing his mouth into a smile. "Zim is fine. Nothing bad is happening to Zim."

"But you said to be gentle," Tiana sounded doubtful, "Like it really hurt."

"Zim is just sore from running. They made Zim do a lot of running." He let out a breath slowly. "Tiana, promise me you won't open your eyes once in this place. Not unless you get free. It's very important."

Tiana felt his face again, touching his forced smile for reassurance. "I promise, Zim."

Zim's smile became a little less forced as he tugged on her arm, pulling her into a careful hug. "Don't worry. Zim will take care of you." He promised.

"But Zim," her voice trembled, threatening a fresh barrage of tears. "Why did you leave again?"

His smile fell, and he clung to her tightly, ignoring the complaints of his stitches. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "Zim is so sorry. It was a mistake. I did everything wrong… Everything went wrong, Tiana, I'm sorry."

"But why?" She pressed, quavering. "Was it cause Red's your Daddy? An' Mrs. Membrane's your mommy?"

Zim closed his eyes. "How did you find that out?"

"Dib got us all to come over, an' yelled at Gaz."

Zim just sighed.

Tiana reached her hand up to the top of his head, stroking his antennae gently. "S'okay Zim, you're not mean like him. I dunno why you want him back, but if you had to…. You should'a told us though. We could'a helped."

"I was afraid of this happening if I told you," Zim responded flatly. "I was afraid you'd try and help, then they would do something bad to one of you, and then…" He cut himself off, redirecting the sentence. "Then we'd be stuck down here for a long time."

Tiana rested her head on his shoulder. "Dib's right, you're a dummy sometimes."

Zim didn't have it in him to roll his eyes at the remark.

"We'll be okay, right Zim? They're not gonna really hurt us?"

Zim tightened his grip on Tiana. "No, they're not going to hurt you. I'll make sure of that."

Tiana paused. "You said they're not gonna hurt me, but what about you?"

Zim placed a hand over her closed eyes gently. "Just keep your eyes closed, Tiana, and they can't hurt Zim."


	25. Everyone Dies

**Everybody Dies**

**Note: **Abandon hope, all ye who enter here…

…

Della paced the living room floor, back and forth, back and forth. Tom watched her, resigned. The police had informed them they were doing all they could, and the best thing for them to do would be to wait on more information. That, however, did not stop Della from doing what she did best—worrying. Tom had attempted to calm her down, but had been snapped at. So he sat on the couch, watching her wear a path in the rug, hoping the phone would ring soon.

Della finally turned to him, shouting, "I can't believe you're just sitting there! You're not even doing anything, don't you care at all?"

Tom sighed. "Della, look, I can't explain it, but I have this feeling that something's happening to make everything alright. It's like… a tarantula sense." His eyes widened slightly.

Della blinked, looking at him like he just sprouted horns. "A tarantula sense." She repeated, incredulously. "You really didn't just say that."

Tom shifted, glancing aside. "I guess it's time I told you, Della…" Standing up, he stretched, cracking his neck. With a quick leap, he sprang to the ceiling, crouching on it upside down. He stared down at her. "I was bitten by a tarantula as a newborn baby. The venom didn't hurt me, but when I kissed my parents for the first time, it killed them instantly. I've had to raise myself since I was a month old, rolling along the streets until I could crawl out of the gutter. I've never been able to kiss anybody since."

Della blinked, disoriented by this sudden turn of events. "Tom, that doesn't make any sense, you were very clearly kissing me the other ni—"

"Unable all these years," he said mournfully, staring off into the distance. "To express my love to anybody, for fear of them suddenly dying."

Della pinched the bridge of her nose. "Tom… if you have these strange spider powers… why aren't you out there trying to find Tiana?"

He shrugged, dropping down to the ground. "First of all, it's tarantula powers. Second, I told you, my tarantula senses are tinkling. Something good is going to happen and fix everything."

As he finished speaking, there was a heavy pounding on the door. Della rushed over to it, throwing it open wide… to see what was not quite the strangest sight of the day. At least, not yet.

On her porch stood two short men. She would have taken them for children at first glance, if it weren't for the sullen scowls on their green-and-black painted faces, their muscular torsos, and their long greasy black hair.

On second glance, she saw Tiana behind them, looking a little unsure and afraid.

"First," The particularlydour man grumbled, "We got it, you don't know who we are, Tiana already explained over and over she has no clue who we are. Second, no we don't know how we got here, one minute it's all tea parties and barrettes with a 6 year old Tiana, and the next it's saving a teenaged Tiana from some crazy terrorist group."

The slightly larger man smirked a little. "Got to rip some crazy old guy's head off and stick it up his—"

"Anyway," the smaller interrupted, "I'm Kodama. This is Obariyon. We brought you back Tiana, now we have to go track down that weird green creep since Tiana's so insistent."

"He got away in the ruckus," Obariyon nodded. "I think they messed with his head or something."

Della blinked. "Messed with his head?"

Kodama sighed. "Yeah, he—"

"My darling squeedleblorch, love of my life!"

Della turned her head, craning her neck to see down the street. A few yards down the street, Zim knelt in front of a fire hydrant, arms extended to it. "I found you, after all these eons! Forsake all else and swear that you are mine!" He threw his arms around it, smothering the dome with kisses.

"Zim!" Della yelled. "Stop that, you don't know what's been there!"

Kodama shrugged. "Yeah, he's been doing that all the way back with us."

Della blinked. "But I thought you said you had to go find him because he got awa—"

INCONSISTENCY IN THE STORYLINE DETECTED, RETCONNING ALL ISSUES WITH THE USE OF WORMHOLES. ISSUES ARE NOW RESOLVED.

"I'm sorry, what was I saying a moment ago?" Della rubbed her forehead. "I seem to have blanked out."

She felt hands on her shoulders, and turned her head to see Tom, staring at her with sad eyes. "Della… I'm sorry… I know this isn't the best time, but… I'm dying." With that, he fell on his back with a thud that shook the house, his arms and legs pointed toward the ceiling.

Della stared down at him. In the background she could hear Zim weeping over the mailbox, asking why it didn't love him anymore, and was it because of the fire hydrant? It didn't mean anything, he swore up and down, it was just a phase, that would never happen again. On her porch, two short green men, looking like they'd rather be anywhere else. Slowly, she turned her face up toward the ceiling, a crooked little grin spreading across her face.

"We're all a little loony…" she whispered.

**THE END**

…

**Note: **If you haven't gotten it by now, welcome to the HeCallsMeHisChild yearly April Fool's Day chapter, where insanity ensues (at least when she remembers to post fanfiction on this date). I can't remember whether it was Maneem or Mekrelmar, probably Mekrelmar, where I pulled this too. It's a ton of fun every year. Yes, I know it interrupts the tone, but don't tell me this story doesn't need just a TAD bit of insanity to lighten it for a chapter.

Title represents everyone's expectations from my fics at this point. Tom got to represent the over-the-top tragedy theme and horrific backstory (totally poking fun at myself). Zim got to represent crack writing. Kodama and Obariyon represent the alternate universe storyline which is going on in the **CHIKARAfiction**'s fanfiction, where Tom/Della/Mikko/Tiana are on loan. Della happens to be the poor sane character to whom all of this is happening, who ends up cracking from the sheer insanity. Yes, she's quoting Tiny Toons. And had to poke more fun at myself for always using wormholes to solve inconsistencies in the plot.

Don't worry. **This chapter doesn't officially exist**, it's just fun. Just take the previous chapter and the next chapter (when it comes out) and stick them together, and you'll get your tone back. =p


	26. No Way Out

**Note: **We now return you to your regularly scheduled stroll through hell.

….

DarkBooty sat in his chair, eyeing the screen in front of him. On it, that disgusting space insect was embracing the girl, spewing false assurances and lies.

Sickening.

Was this how it brainwashed the people around it? It projected the idea that it actually cared? His glare deepened. He'd seen enough Irkens to know there wasn't a drop of compassion in the entire species. They'd wiped it out of themselves, and if he had to break this creature's defenses down brick by brick, he'd have it out of him exactly how he brainwashed Dib.

And make him suffer. Oh the suffering he would endure.

He blinked for a moment, his brows lifting in bewilderment. _But why did the alien hand himself over if he didn't actually care for the girl—_

He blinked for a moment, eyeing the screen in front of him. On it, that disgusting space insect was embracing the girl, spewing false assurances and lies.

SICKENING.

With a growl, he punched a button, barking into a speaker, "I want the Irken subject escorted to the interrogation room. While he's out of the cell, prepare the girl. Have him in the room in five minutes." His eyes narrowed. A little taste of hope for the Irken would give him plenty of room to fall even further than he had before. There would be nothing left of his spirit to pick up after this.

_What does this have to do with making him admit he's brainwash—_

He blinked for a moment, eyeing the screen in front of him. On it, that disgusting space insect was embracing the girl, spewing false assurances and lies.

**SICKENING**.

…

Zim braced himself as he was half marched half dragged down the hall again. He attempted to keep up, but his legs kept giving out. Exhaustion from the first round of "testing" and fear of what would come next kept his steps unsteady. But focusing his thoughts on Tiana gave him a certain resolve.

They would be filming him again, no doubt. She'd keep her eyes closed, but it was up to him now not to scream. Whatever happened, he couldn't scream. He had to do that much for her.

They walked him into a small, dimly lit room with a chair in the middle of it. They pushed him into the chair, locking his wrists to the armrests and his ankles to the legs, and left.

He waited, antennae trembling slightly. He didn't see any tools, but that didn't mean they weren't preparing some other, insidious torture for him. Flirk, it had only been a few hours, how much were they going to put him through on just the first day?

He paused for a moment, considering his state of mind. He had, he realized, risen somewhat from his despair since finding Tiana in his cell. His last thought was resentful toward his captors, and vestiges of anger were returning to replace the creeping despondency. There was even, dare he name it, a spark of hope. Even if Tiana was never released, and he prayed to Irk she would be, if she could be there to support him and talk to him and give him the strength to endure, he would be able to face every day, if only for the sake of his sister.

A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, but it vanished as the door swung open, and DarkBooty walked in. The Agent stood in front of Zim, staring down at him in distaste. Zim's claws trembled slightly, but he raised his face to meet DarkBooty's stare, matching it with his own hateful scowl.

DarkBooty's face split into a dark grin. He chuckled. "Looks like you still have fight left in you. Well, let's see how long that lasts, shall we?" He stepped back, leaning against the wall. "I just wanted to brief you on the next series of experiments, as they will require some form of cooperation from you." Idly, he stroked his chin. "I say some, since you won't want to, but if you truly want to keep the girl out of the hands of your species, you'll do exactly as we tell you."

Zim bared his teeth, but waited, antennae cocked for what Booty had to say.

"We've known for some time about the breeding program your Tallest conducted with the subjects we sent him." DarkBooty scratched his head. "Of course, since it was on Irk, no observable data could be recorded by the Swollen Eyeball."

Zim's heart stopped as he tried to yank his thoughts back from racing toward the inevitable conclusion of DarkBooty's topic choice.

"With that in mind, we know it is a hard thing. Even traumatizing. But sacrifices have to be made, so we can know exactly how an Irken works, front to back, inside and out, in all biological processes." He tilted his head slightly. "There is a human female in your cell, and you are going to demonstrate for us the Irken mating process."

Zim stared at him, eyes wide, jaw slack with disbelief. "I'll die first." He croaked.

DarkBooty shook his head. "You misunderstand me, Zim. It isn't you who will die. It's her, who will be sent to your people. Of course, if you really decide not to comply, that is your choice. I'm sure she'll be perfectly well received on your planet to carry out whatever it is they have slaves and experiments carry out. I'm sure her days will be filled with joy and wonder on Irk, it sounds like a lovely place from what our subjects here say."

Zim began to shake. "Your sick twisted revenge has nothing to do with her!" He screamed at the man. "I don't care, do whatever you want, break me apart cell by cell, but keep Tiana out of this! She's one of you!" He pleaded, grasping for whatever pity DarkBooty might have. "She's a hyuman! A little smeet! You can't be serious!"

DarkBooty's face went slack for a moment, before reforming into a dark expression. "She is a healthy girl in her early teens." He said harshly. "If we're fortunate, we may even produce new specimens through the two of you to study." Turning to the open door, he gestured at it. The guards returned, unstrapping Zim and holding him tightly. "You have two hours." DarkBooty warned. "If you have not begun by then, we will send her away." With a flick of his wrist, he dismissed the guards to drag Zim back to his cell.

Zim's mind reeled, his legs not even responding as they slid across the concrete floors.

_No way out. No way out._

His mind taunted him as he scrambled through the options, one by one dismissing them.

_Deny. She will be sent to Irk, and be forever destroyed by her experiences there. She will probably die under miserable circumstances._

_ Comply. She will be a shell of a person for the rest of her life, like… my biological mother... She will never be able to look at me again. Tom, Della, Mikko would shun me forever._

_ Deny._

_ Comply._

_ Deny._

_ Comply_

_ No way out. No way out._

He was thrown into his cell. His body hit the floor, skidding a little, the blow knocking him free of the cycle in his head. As the cell door closed, he lifted his head. It was just a flash before he turned his head away, but he saw.

Tiana crouched in the corner, stripped, huddling against the wall. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Zim?" She croaked, shivering. "They took my clothes… what's going on? Zim?"

_No way out… no way out…_

Zim retreated to the opposite side of the cell, pulling off his thin shirt. He threw it behind himself as far as he could. "Here," he said shakily. "Use this."

He heard her pulling it over herself. It would not be enough, but it would cover her somewhat. He slammed his head against the wall, trying to fight back a wail of frustration.

_No way out._

_There is one way out…_ He clenched his eyes shut, his mind drifting to the sharp tools in his PAK. _There is no resolution in this situation that is better than a quick death._

_Can you kill your sister?_

His claws clenched tightly. If their circumstances didn't change by the time the guards marched down the hall to take his sister… then yes. Yes he could.

….

**Note: **Not sure if you guys have picked up on this at this point, but occasionally your reviews actually influence things in the story. For example, a few chapters ago I went, "Well things have to go up from here, cause there's not any lower it can go." And ONE of you, you know who you are, you threw me a shovel. How am I supposed to ignore the shovel if I see it furthering the story? Huh?

In other news, Danem is officially the longest story I've written to date, in terms of chapters and word count. It's even catching up to the word count I have on the actual novel I'm writing. That's slightly depressing. Also THERE'S A DANEM SKETCHDUMP ON DA from this really really cool person who did fanart for me, I'm super excited! Look up Invader-SiCkNeSs on Deviantart and look for the Danem sketchdump. She even did young Gloria! Guys, I'VE never even drawn young Gloria, and she looks freaking awesome!


	27. Advancing A Rescue

**Note:** Okay, some of you bet twice but that's ok. The final bet count on who dies stands at **Dib:** Imstarfire and ngrey651

**Tunaghost:** Kazehana23, Invader Johnny

**Red:** Kazehana23, Invader Johnny

**Membrane:** None

**GIR:** None

Let's see where the long-ago-pre-determined chips fall…

**P.S.** No, Slurpeemonster, there will be no bringing back to life from this one.

….

Dib hadn't wasted any time raiding his father's basement. Membrane never did like him down there, but this was an emergency. He'd explain later. Or get in trouble.

At this point, he really didn't care if he got lectured. Besides, he was an adult now, even if just barely, and if his father really meant half of what he said about following in his footsteps, then he needed to let Dib mess with some of his old experiments, and—"I REALLY need to stop talking to myself," Dib moaned, rummaging through the equipment.

His eye caught on a white cloth draped over a discarded monitor. Picking it up, he peered at it. It looked like his Dad's labcoat. It was no secret that the Professor's labcoat was wired with more inventions than a swiss army knife had blades. Dib recalled the multiple versions the Professor had gone through, before perfecting the garment for everyday wear.

"Must be an older version." Dib inspected it briefly. He knew all the functions of his father's current coat from careful observation, but there was no telling which functions this one did or didn't have. "Guess I'll find out as I go." He slipped into it, buttoning it up as he kept searching.

He found two small blasters, an EMP device, and a multi-lock breaker. Slipping all these into various pockets, he turned to leave.

Gaz stood in the doorway, staring at him oddly. "You going after him?"

Dib's expression hardened. "What do you care?"

Gaz turned her head away slightly. "Red's going after him, you know. You don't have to go." Quietly, she mumbled, "Don't go, Dib."

Dib stared at her for a moment.

"I know you hate me right now, Dib, but I did what I could to protect this family. Cause _this_ family's the only one I care about, and he's not part of _my_ family. He's part of yours, I get it. I sent someone after him, someone who can do something about it." She stared at the doorframe, not looking at him. "Don't go, Dib. They mean business, they could kill you."

Slowly, Dib crossed the room, and stopped, towering over Gaz. Reaching down, he took her shoulder, and squeezed it gently. "Gaz, he needs me too. Whether he gets it or not, he needs me."

Gaz's head dropped, her hands balling into little fists. "Then if you have to…" She billowed out, huge and dark, now towering over him. Her red eyes fixed on him. _Don't be afraid. It's only for a few seconds._ With that, she swept him into herself.

It was cold, it was dark. He couldn't feel anything, or see anything. Did he even exist anymore? But it was only a moment. The next thing he knew, he was sprawled on a city sidewalk near the edge of town. Gaz reformed herself, staring down at the street. "I can't get any closer." Her voice was flat. "They have a sonic shield specifically to keep sound-sensitive predators out. But the coordinates in that big head of your say that second back door is over there." She pointed toward the dump, not looking at it. "So go already."

Dib picked himself up, a little wobbly. He looked down again at Gaz, the alien sister from another dimension. The dark terror that ensured hell for any dumb enough to cross her or her family. The girl who cared for the woman that took her in so much, she even mimicked her hair color.

The one who, at that moment, was staring down at the sidewalk and pointing off in the distance, her arm trembling slightly.

Kneeling down, Dib wrapped his arms around Gaz tightly. "I'm not gonna die, Gaz." He squeezed her tightly. "Promise. I'm just gonna go get Zim, and everything will be fine. You'll see."

Gaz clung to him for a moment. _You'd better keep that promise moron._ She threatened, before vanishing out of his arms.

Turning toward the dump, Dib pulled one of the blasters out of his pocket, along with the multi-lock breaker, and hurried toward the specified point.

….

Tunaghost flew down the twisted underground passages of the headquarters, pulling together a plan as she moved. She wasn't the most proficient at getting technology to obey her, she was lucky she knew how to route a video feed to Mothman and navigate the programs and systems of the Eyeball that she wasn't supposed to see without getting caught. So disabling the security systems and reprogramming patrol routes was out of the question.

At least, on her own.

She was just down the hall from the second backdoor when she came to a stop. Pulling out a small notebook, she flipped in a few pages. Magic was given less credence in the Swollen Eyeball than alien research. It made sense, even alien study was more scientific, but that didn't mean magic didn't exist, or have its uses. And that was her domain.

"Aula quod lux est, caligavit pro me." She whispered. Instantly the lights began to flicker, dimming down. The security camera lights flickered as well, whirring as their processes were disrupted. "Timor hic non quaerimus hic." She peered down the hall, through the dimness. A guard stood post at the second backdoor, but began to shift from foot to foot. After about ten seconds, he turned stiffly, walking briskly down the hall, away from the door. She smiled. "Dark and fear, the perfect cover."

Slipping along the hall, she posted herself by the door, waiting.

It wasn't long before the heavy vaulted door whirred in protest as something broke through its systems.

"Nullo terrore, amici scio." She whispered hastily, and the alert signal died before it reached full circle.

The door swung open, revealing Mothman's silhouette, a weapon in his hand, pointing in at her.

"Mothman!" She hissed. "It's Tunaghost. Put that thing away."

Pausing, Mothman lowered the weapon, but kept it in hand as he entered. "Where's Zim?" He asked grimly. "You know where they're keeping him?"

She nodded. "I found out. We're going to have to move carefully so we don't set off any—"

At that moment, the lights flickered back to full power, and an alarm began blaring through the hall.

Tunaghost glanced at the cameras. Their red lights weren't shining, they hadn't regained power yet. The alarm from the backdoor had been intercepted. "That's not for us," she said slowly.

Dib nodded grimly. "My sister mentioned sending someone else in. Looks like we have a distracton. Let's go."

….

** Primary objective. Remove self from government facility.**

** Completed.**

** Secondary objective has now become primary objective. Find Master. Save Master.**

** Master.**

** Remove furry animal from chest, put in tree. Analysis, frightened, but alive. Very wet all over itself.**

** Analysis of self. Phase two of blueprints according to Tallests complete. Sample taken from native inhabitant fully integrated. Skin. Blood. Hair. Appearance match with native inhabitants of current residence.**

** Track Master's PAK. Located. Underground.**

_ IT'S OKAY MASTA, I CAN DIG!_

….

Red scrambled into the dump, past a chicken on a leash, tripping over garbage piles and barely avoiding a faceplant into something particularly unpleasant. Pushing himself up, he continued onward, his mind scrambling to pull together a plan. Any plan. Why was he rushing headlong into danger again, without even a tiny inkling of what to do?

_They have my son. One of them survived, and they have him. And they're probably hurting him._

_You've hurt him plenty. You ordered his torture, his branding, his execution._

Red's eye caught on something out of place, and he wheeled around, lunging for it.

_Even more reason to find him now._

A hole in the ground. It looked like it had been covered at one point, but the edges of the hole were rimmed with metal that had melted downward. Heat blast, perhaps? Whatever had happened here, Red's path had been cleared. He leaped into the hole feet first, plunging downward. His eyes focused on the ground flying toward him, calculating the distance in a split second. His spiderlegs shot out, digging into the walls and slowing his fall just enough for him to land safely, although he hit the ground on his hands and knees.

Glancing up, he took in his surroundings. Scorch marks up and down the walls, there'd been some kind of firefight. More blasters? Maybe plasma, or laser. He couldn't tell. Down the hall, a few bodies lay where they'd fallen. Plasma blasts, he decided. No blood, the beams cauterized the wounds they caused.

Red light flashed up and down the hall, and Red heard an alarm blaring. Whoever was here, they'd set off the alarm and hard. Well, it would give him cover to find Zim.

He paused. How was he going to find Zim?

He smacked his head. _Think, Red! Your PAK. _Reaching into his PAK, he pulled out a small screen. On it, he saw a red dot representing himself, and a green dot, representing the only other living Irken nearby.

He started down the hall, picking his way around the bodies. Most of them bore the uniform with the Swollen Eyeball emblazoned over their jackets, but one of them wore a white labcoat, and odd-looking goggles. Headshot, Red noted. Clean kill, instant death. Must have been caught in the crossfire between the guards and the intruder. For a moment, he smiled. His mind felt so free, pulling together data and interpreting it faster, clearer than any other time he could recall. Maybe Zim was right about the whole filter thing.

He focused his eyes forward. He didn't have time to think of all the angles in this situation. He had to find Zim. Stepping over the body in the labcoat, he hurried onward, determined to find his son.

….

**Note: **You all owe me monies.

For the record, all this lighthearted Note stuff, honestly, at a certain point I have to start poking fun at myself. I am the comic relief on the sidelines… because there isn't any in the story. So, forgive my self-deprecating humor in regards to the tropes I recognize in my own writing. Also, Google Translate is wonderful…


	28. Tactical Disadvantages

**Note:** This POV, I knew, was going to take the longest, therefore it had its own chapter separate from the other rescuers. So in terms of timeline, this one happens before Red is on the scene.

…

It wasn't too long before Membrane found the manhole. It wasn't the manhole itself that stood out, so much as the foot traffic leading to the manhole, but not past it. People were going in, he observed, quite frequently. The garbage all along the route was crushed into a sort of path. If you weren't looking for it, nobody would pay it a second thought. But if you were looking for a trail, something unusual, then it was fairly easy to spot.

He wasn't sure entirely what the little alien was doing down a manhole in the middle of a dump, but it was about time he found out.

He gripped the edges of the cover and tugged at it. It didn't budge. He strained a little more, crouching down and leveraging his bodyweight to lean back as he gripped the lid. Still no movement. Tapping a few buttons on the arm of his coat, he tried again, this time at five times his natural strength. It creaked a little, but still nothing.

Membrane frowned. Either this cover was rusted shut—which, judging by the foot traffic, he highly doubted—or someone didn't want him to get in.

Well, nobody kept Professor Ivan Membrane out when he wanted in. Especially not when he had such an important mission. His thoughts flashed briefly to Gloria, still waiting for him to come back with her child.

Grimly, he stood over the manhole, pointed his arm down, and blasted a heat ray through the cover. It melted inward, dripping molten metal down a long shaft. Lights all along the tunnel shattered at the heat, and Membrane could hear alarms begin to blare.

_Whatever he's gone and gotten himself into, it's bad._

Membrane leaped into the shaft, turning on his rocket boots to compensate for gravity. By the time he reached the bottom, he'd slowed enough to land on his feet. The second his boots touched the floor, he took off down the hall, running.

The first shot pinged off the wall by his shoulder, and he ducked into a doorway, wide-eyed.

_Very bad. Bullets, not stun guns, they mean to kill. Is this… no, he wouldn't have gone there._

Grimly, he pulled his collar closed tighter. The entire coat was perfectly bullet proof. He'd recently tested it against lasers, and it could withstand moderate exposure. He'd been meaning to get that upgraded, but hadn't had the time.

More bullets startet flying down the hall. The Professor turned his head, speaking to his collar. "Simmons, I need a lock on my location. Send backup now, I repeat, I need backup _now._"

With a few adjustments, he routed power to his gloves, His sleeves usually generated the large blasts of energy, but for more focused attacks, he directed blasts with his fingers. Darting back into the hall, he began pointing his fingers, dropping two or three guards at a time. _They're trying to kill me, it's self defense at this point._

As soon as it became apparent he was equipped with lasers, the patrol retreated around a corner, leaving their dead behind. Membrane picked his way forward, pausing just long enough to glance down at the uniform on one of the bodies.

_The Swollen Eyeball? He DID go to them? What madness brought him here?_

Gruesome images flashed through his mind, images of the little alien enduring horrific experiments closer to torture than science. They'd done it before, he'd seen the aftermath of Zim's last encounter with this organization, they would do it again.

He felt rage begin building in his chest. He'd never been close with Zim, but he was Gloria's son. By extension, he was a little piece of Gloria.

One that was most likely enduring unimaginable agony.

With a roar, Membrane charged around the corner, setting his coat to sleeve-blast. He would blow down every door if he had to to find Zim now.

A white-hot pain slammed into his shoulder, flipping him onto his back. Stunned, he assessed the damage.

He couldn't move his right arm. There was a hole drilled straight through his coat, shoulder, and out the other side, neat and cauterized. It smelled of burnt flesh.

_Plasma blasters? How could they have plasma? It's still in developmental stages!_ He glanced up to see more security pouring into the hall, each armed with a weapon, modified with unfamiliar technology.

_It's the Swollen Eyeball. They have the tech of any alien they every tortured at their disposal._

Rolling back around the corner, he pushed himself up. He had made a grave tactical error, not calling Simmons first. He had to withdraw and wait to direct Membrane Inc's forces. This was a much bigger problem than he had initially surmised.

Stumbling down the hall at a run, he made for the exit tunnel. His boot caught on a corpse and he tumbled to the ground with a grunt. He tried to push himself up, but felt a boot between his shoulderblades, slamming him back to the ground. A hot muzzle was placed against the back of his head.

A surge of grief drowned out his rage and fear, as he heard the weapon thrum to life.

_Gloria, I'm so sorry…_

…..

**Note: **Buckle up everyone. We've been worming along rock bottom for a few chapters now. It's time to take this baby skyward. Or at the very least, airborne.


	29. Countdown to Rescue

Zim remained where he was, in the front corner of the cell, head pressed against the corner. The timer he'd set in his PAK reminded him, there was only 15 minutes left before Booty came to take Tiana.

Neither of them had spoken since he'd tossed her his shirt. He'd heard her crying on and off, but he couldn't go comfort her. There was no comfort to give, and he couldn't go near her now, with DarkBooty's horrible ultimatum weighing on him.

_Fourteen minutes._

"Zim?" She called from the corner, breaking the silence.

Zim's antenna twitched slightly. "What is it, Tiana?"

"Zim… why did they take my clothes? And why aren't you talking to me?"

Zim swallowed hard, grinding his head against the wall. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn't bring himself to answer her question.

The second time, her voice came out slightly shakier. "Zim… is it cause of what happened to Mrs. Membrane… and almost happened to Mikko?"

Zim dug his claws into his pant legs, his chest feeling like it was going to split apart. Tersely, he promised, "That's not going to happen, Tiana."

She was quiet for a while.

_Twelve minutes._

"But that's what they want to happen…" She pressed. "What happens to us if it doesn't happen?"

Zim closed his eyes. "Nothing. Nothing's going to happen to us."

Tiana's voice cracked. "Zim, don't lie to me. Please. I'm scared."

Zim's shoulders shuddered. "Please, Tiana… please don't ask me."

Tiana's voice pitched. "Zim, if they're gonna do bad things to us, they've been doing bad things to you, and you already lied to me. They hurt you, and they're gonna hurt you again, and me too. Tell me the truth! Or I'll open my eyes!"

_Eleven minutes._

Zim tried to keep his voice steady. "They…. They said… they'll send you to Irk."

Silence fell in the cell again.

_Seven minutes._

"What'll happen to me on Irk, Zim?" She asked, quietly.

"Nothing." Zim responded angrily. "Nothing, because you're not going to Irk, and we're not listening to anything the Swollen Eyeball has to say."

"Zim… you're scaring me."

Zim wrapped his arms around his head. "I know… I'm sorry… I'm…" He felt the splitting in his chest get worse. Only six minutes. He reached into his PAK, grabbing a piece of metal, a spare tip for one of his spiderlegs. Long and sharp, it would do the job. It would hurt, but only for a short while. And it was better than any other option presented to them.

Red light flooded the cell, as alarms began blaring up and down the hall. _Of course. The cameras. DarkBooty knows what I'm going to do. But he can't stop me now._

Turning, he made his way over to Tiana, and sat next to her. He risked a glance. The shirt he'd given her covered her just enough. Her face was streaked with tears, and she was biting her lip to keep from crying.

Zim wrapped his arms around her tightly, his eyes filling with gooey wetness. "Tiana, you know how I'm always here to protect you, yes? You trust Zim?"

She leaned into his hug, clinging to his arms. "Yes, I trust you Zim."

Running bootsteps echoed down the hall. Zim lifted the spiderleg tip, holding it inches above her neck. Severing the spinal cord would be the quickest death, with the least pain.

"I won't let them hurt you." Zim's voice shook. "I promised that. And I'm going to keep that promise." Closing his eyes, he tensed his arm to strike.

"ZIM!"

The familiar voice jarred him, and he hesitated. He opened his eyes, locking onto the figure standing in front of the cell door. Two figures, one staring at him in astonishment, the other fiddling with the lock. He recognized the spiky hair of his Swollen Eyeball interviewer, and the one currently working the lock was—

"DIB!"

The spiderleg tip clattered to the ground, as Zim stumbled across the cell, eyes wide. "You have to get her out of here, you have to get her out now, Dib!"

Dib growled, "I'm working to get you both out of here, idiot, so just calm down, and don't do anything stupid!" He glared up at Zim.

Zim cringed, realizing he'd have to explain what Dib had seen later, among many other things.

"And… done!" The door swung open. Zim turned back, running to grab Tiana's hand. "Tiana, you can open your eyes, we're getting out of here." He urged.

She opened her eyes, her first glance taking in Zim's scarred and stitched together torso. Zim cringed, but took her hand. "Tiana, I promise. I will talk to you after this is over, I will explain, apologize, and everything else, but we must leave, and we must leave _now_."

Tiana nodded, pulling the shirt down lower with her other hand, and following after Zim as he led her out. Tunaghost removed her own coat, draping it around Tiana's form. The adult-sized labcoat covered her well, and she pulled it closed, smiling gratefully at Tunaghost.

Dib glanced up the hall. "They probably have the exit we used covered, and the front entrance is out of the question. Ghost, any other ways in and out?"

Tunaghost shook her head. "The first backdoor is as heavily guarded as the front."

Dib tugged on his sleeves grimly. "Then it's going to come down to a firefight. We're going out the front door then. It's the shortest distance to the city from there. Zim, you got any firepower left in your PAK?"

Zim grimaced, taking stock of his PAK arsenal. "Lasers removed, spiderlegs broken, robotic wires cut. Only essential life support intact, and a few spare parts and tools accessible."

Dib pulled out a blaster from his pocket, tossing it to Zim. "Take this, and use it like your life depends on it."

Zim mumbled, "You don't have to tell Zim that twice." He glanced over at Tunaghost, too near to Tiana for his liking. "Dib… you trust this Tunaghost? She won't betray us?"

Dib shook his head. "She got me in here, told me where the HQ was."

"Well if you trust her, then let's get going. There's a camera in my cell. DarkBooty already knows everything that's been going on."

Dib nodded. "Right, follow me."

Zim took a step forward, then stumbled. Blinking, he looked down, as Dib turned to see what was holding him up.

His stitches had ripped open. He'd been too frantic about the situation with Tiana to mind his newly sewn stitches, and the appearance of Dib had raised his hopes to frenetic levels. His sudden movements must have pulled his incision open again.

He pressed a hand to the hole, now dripping green, and his eyes darted to Tiana, who stared at him in terror.

"Tunaghost," he snapped, "if you have any kind of sneaky way of getting her clear, use it. We're too big a group to get through together now, especially with me slowing us down. I want her clear, even if I don't get clear, understood?"

Tunaghost glanced at Dib, who nodded grimly. "Zim's right, he's not in any condition to move fast right now. Split up."

Tiana reached an arm out to Zim, but Tunaghost grabbed her, yanking her down the hall at a dead run.

Zim looked over at Dib, forcing a grin. "Looks worse than it is."

Dib sighed. "You're a terrible liar Zim. Come on. Let's get out of here."


	30. Fish in a Barrel

**Note: **I know in light of what happened today (Boston Marathon) it may be a little tacky to update a Zim fic. But I'm so… heartsore… from the reaction of WBC to this, and all other disasters, I need to write something that has nothing to do with reality.

…..

Dib set his blaster down for a second, growling, "Cover the hall."

"What are you doing?" Zim hissed, raising his blaster with one hand while covering the hole in his torso with the other. His hand was not nearly large enough to hold the hole closed, and Dib could see things that made his stomach turn.

"You can't run around shooting one handed, you need a free hand too for emergencies." Shedding the coat for a moment, he pulled his shirt up over his head. Immediately he donned the coat again, glancing down the hall worriedly, and tossed the shirt at Zim. "Tie it up," he instructed. "Tourniquet, best we can do for now."

Zim nodded gratefully, only setting his blaster down once Dib scooped his up, and used Dib's shirt to tie around his middle. The wound still oozed, but was no longer gaping, and pressure had been applied. Zim scooped up his blaster again, feeling a little dizzy, and glanced at Dib.

Dib jerked his head. "This way. We came in through the other way, the front door will be in the opposite direction."

Zim nodded, taking off after Dib. He heard the clatter of heavy bootsteps behind, it sounded like several of them, and weaponry charging. He could hear the thrum of the lasers…. Not lasers, lasers didn't make that noise…

He grabbed Dib's shoulder, still trying to keep up. "Dib!" He hissed. "They have plasma. I heard it. We can't let them open fire, I've no shielding for us!"

Dib nodded grimly. "We'll just have to take them down first." Rounding a corner, he skidded to a halt.

Zim came up behind him, and his spooch sank.

In front of them lay a long corridor, stretching out forward and to either side. Each hall was filled with a troop of Swollen Eyeball soldiers, each armed with a plasma rifle, aimed directly at them. Dib stood his ground, leveling his blaster down the hall in front of him, not even flinching at the overwhelming numbers all around.

"Well. Mothman. My most promising pupil." DarkBooty stepped forward from the right hallway, and Dib's blaster swung level with his forehead. He merely paused, an amused grin on his face. "How does it feel, to betray your own planet? The one you fought so hard to protect?"  
"I didn't betray it." Dib snarled. "I fought tooth and nail for it, and in the end, the so-called enemy saw reason. He's not a threat, Booty. I've told you over and over, but you won't listen. You sell my mother to those monsters, you kidnap a little girl for your petty revenge, and you slice into my best friend. Any one of those reasons is good enough for me to put you down right now."

Booty's eyes glinted a disturbing shade of yellow. "Go ahead, then, Dib. Show me, just how much of a killer are you?"

Dib's jaw clenched, the blaster never moving from its direction toward Booty's head. His finger wrapped around the trigger, holding it. Ten seconds passed, then twenty. No shot was fired.

Sweat broke out on Dib's forehead, and Zim could read the struggle in his face. Dib, for all his threats and bravado and scrapping, was not a killer.

Zim reached up, snatching Dib's blaster out of his hands, and pointing both of them at DarkBooty, eyes narrowing. "He's not a killer, you know." Zim rasped. "He's not a monster. You wanted a monster, Booty, you want to see a real killer? I've killed so many Irkens in training I could swim in their bloods." His eyes darkened. "And they were honorable soldiers. Pathetic filth like you deserve to be ended!" Two laser beams left the barrels of the blasters Zim held, the kickback sending him staggering weakly. Dib caught him, wide-eyed, as the beams slammed into Booty's forehead.

Booty staggered back, his head tilted grotesquely backwards for a moment, before righting himself. His head straightened, and he stared at them, grinning manically, his eyes a jaundiced yellow. "Oh, that was fun. It even tickled a bit. Do try again, please."

Dib sucked in a breath, shocked, and Zim just hung onto Dib, trying not to fall over. Point blank laser fire to the head hadn't even fazed the man.

"You're not human," Dib whispered, dumbfounded.

"Oh no, absolutely human." He cracked his neck. "Just protected quite heavily, until certain investments start paying off." He blinked, looking confused for a moment, before he turned back to the two, grinning. "Now, Mothman. About the matter of your betrayal. I'd say that requires, well… probably execution. Might as well join your dear old Dad."

Dib's face drained of color. "What did you say?"

"Oh didn't you know? Really stupid of you two not to coordinate. Your father came down here too, blasting away. Dropped several of our guards, irritating to say the least. But he's lying with them now, gathering flies."

"YOU'RE LYING!" Dib lunged forward, dropping Zim to the ground. Three guards reached out, grabbing Dib by the arms and yanking him back. He screamed, blasting raw energy out from the sleeves of the coat, the guards dropping where they stood. Two or three fired their rifles at him—shoulder and knee shots—dropping him to the ground.

Darkbooty tsked. "Always too rash. Rushing in ahead of time and spoiling things. A shame you couldn't stay one of us, Mothman. We could have used your intelligence. As it is, we'll be keeping your brother with us for a long, long time." Again, DarkBooty's grin froze, and he looked confused. "B-brother…" he muttered, scratching his head, before he whipped his attention back toward them. "Kill him, return the specimen to his cell."

Zim hissed, staggering to his feet over Dib's prone form. Broken spiderlegs protruded from his PAK, along with any other tool he had on him. "Keep your filthy hands off… off…" He staggered, sinking to his knees. The whole room had begun to spin. He'd lost too much blood. The shirt around his middle was soaked, dripping.

"Let him watch his brother die." DarkBooty's voice seemed to come from far off. Zim saw plasma rifles being aimed and charging in slow motion. He crouched over Dib's body in a futile attempt to shield him from the blasts.

"In the name of the Irken Empire and the Almighty Tallests drop your weapons!"

The soldiers froze, glancing among themselves. DarkBooty's eyes widened, as Red came barreling through the ranks, shoving aside soldier after soldier. On reaching the center, he spun to face Booty, his eyes narrowed to slits. "Agent DarkBooty. I can't say it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

Zim glanced up in his daze, bewildered. Red was here? What was Red doing here, why were there three of him…

"Tallest Red." Booty's head inclined slightly, but not nearly enough. "What brings you here? We were just carrying out sanctioned experiments on a specimen you sent through yourself."

Tallest Red drew himself up to his full height, glaring down on Agent DarkBooty. "This specimen has been found to bear the genetic materials marking a potential Tallest. He carries genes from a Tallest, which equates to him being Irken royalty. It was not discovered before this, but now that it has been discovered, the Empire lays claim to this Irken and withdraws all trade related agreements concerning him from the Swollen Eyeball."

"What are you admitting to, Tallest Red?" DarkBooty drawled mockingly. "Carries the genetic code? That's a little vague, I'm not quite sure I understand, being a lowly human and all." His eyes danced yellow with glee.

Red stared him dead in the eyes, antennae flat against his skull, and with all the venom he could muster, spat, "Irken Invader Zim is my smeet, my offspring, and if you so much as touch a cell on his body again, I will personally disintegrate you down to the molecular level."

For a moment, there was nothing. Then, there it was. That hole, that other gaping hole, he could feel it filling up, up, up until it was full. Bursting. Overflowing. His Tallest recognized him, Tallest Red saw him. Red… Red accepted him.

"Danem…" He murmured, staring up in pure joy. His vision dimmed as Tallest Red glanced down toward him, and then his vision went black.

…..

**Note: **just want to say, Zim's actions and choices in this story are not a moral lesson. It is a character study of the psyche of Zim, or Zim as I have written him. Just because he saw murder/suicide as his only out, doesn't mean he was right. It just means, he's a flawed character, who's doing his darndest to survive and do the right thing, and sometimes he's less than perfect in the process. Irk knows he botched this whole situation beginning to end, with the best of intentions…

Another fanart from **Invader-SiCkNeSs**! (s)he did a wonderful bust of young Gloria being spunky. Love it!


	31. Inside Information

Red's heart seized at the sight of Zim, as he took a moment to really assess the damage. He was bleeding out from an open wound in his torso, one barely held together by a cloth. The wound was doubtless caused by the Eyeball, and he needed medical attention fast. But the look in his eyes… Red felt a deep shame welling up from his spooch. He didn't deserve that look. He never deserved that look, he probably never would deserve that look. Not from Zim, or anybody.

His thoughts were interrupted, as Zim collapsed over Dib's shaking form. Dib had lost consciousness, too much lost blood. The human had been shot multiple times, it seemed, and was probably going into shock. _I remember you now… you stood up to me about Zim. _Red turned back to DarkBooty, his voice dangerously low.

"As an Almighty Tallest of the Irken empire, I am demanding the release of these two into my custody."

"Well, for one," DarkBooty straightened himself, "You have no claim on, as he's human. For the other, well, you still have no claim on him."

Red bared his teeth. "Are you ignoring a direct command from a Tallest? We could have this planet incinerated."

"Oh, doubtless you could," agreed Booty, "assuming, of course that you are still in touch with the Armada. Tell me, does Purple even know you're alive, Red?"

Red stiffened, eyes widening. Something was horribly wrong. Darkbooty had never contradicted him before, nor had he failed to use his title properly. But that smile, that knowing smirk on the hyuman's face when he asked if Purple knew he was alive… he knew. Somehow he knew that Red had been taken by a Morflar, assumed dead. _How could he know that? Zim wouldn't have told him. How does he know?_

"The thing is, Red," DarkBooty said condescendingly, "You don't have the Empire to back you right now. And even if you did, all it would take to shut them up is telling them that Zim is your surviving offspring. If you think what they did to your precious… oh, what is that archaic word… maneem? Was bad, and you were a pure Irken, what do you think they would do to him when they found out he was a hybrid?" Booty's eyes burned a gleeful yellow. "What would they do to you, when they found out you know, and even now are allowing him to live?"

Red opened his mouth, then shut it, trying to swallow. His mouth was dry. _How did Booty know about her? _The image flashed before his eyes, a bleeding, battered Irkeness, crawling on the floor like an animal. Two black, gaping holes in her face, where her eyes should have been, and no antennae, calling his name as her eyes were shoved in his face by the laughing soldiers. He cringed, putting his hands to his head. _Not now!_

"Red, Red, Red. Your bluster really doesn't matter." Booty lifted a hand, and all rifles in the room thrummed to life. "Because Purple doesn't know you're alive… you have no power. You have provided enough misery as a pawn. I can squeeze a few more months from your son. Goodbye, Red."

Red barely had the presence of mind to step back, standing over the fallen bodies of Zim and Dib, and raise his shielding.

Plasma bolts slammed into his shielding from all sides, and he could feel his PAK send out alarms. He had plenty of energy to deflect a normal attack, but this was continual, from all sides, and plasma was not easy to deal with. The situation was a wreck, he was completely cut off from the exit, and even if he wasn't he had two limp bodies to carry—one if he had to choose—all while shielding from continual attacks.

_There isn't a way out of this._

The shielding began shrinking inward, the sphere of protection getting smaller as he sank to his knees, pulling Zim into his arms.

_I'm sorry._

As he knelt there, the ground beneath him began to quiver. He could feel vibrations in the dirt, and he turned his head, confused. The soldiers around him, likewise, stopped shooting, shifting to keep their balance.

A large sinkhole opened up, as several soldiers jumped out of the way, taking down several lines as they leaped into their comrades. Out from the hole popped a small head covered with silver hair. The head turned around a few times, revealing the confused face of a young boy with bright cyan eyes. "Guess I took a wrong turn at Albaquirky." He mused in a high pitched voice.

Red only spent one second wondering how GIR's voice was coming out of a human boy before he reached out and yanked him in through the shielding. Hefting Zim into his arms, he pointed at Dib. "Take him, and stay near me!"

The boy nodded, scooping up the much larger hyuman boy in his arms effortlessly.

"Fire!" DarkBooty screamed, showing the first sign of panic. As the soldiers scrambled to right themselves and aim, Red bolted for the hole, leaping into it. The strange boy, not missing a beat, dove in after him, carrying Dib.

The hole plummeted straight down for a bit, before curving around and up. As the sphere hit the bottom, Red began to run, like a hamster in a ball. Next to him, the strangely powered boy kept pace, eyes glowing. Red frowned as he checked his PAK readings. No further energy was being drained from his PAK for the shield. The shield remained stable and strong, despite the occasional plasma bolt from the soldiers who'd dropped down the hole after them.

"Are you doing that?" He panted at the boy.

The boy flashed a grin at him. "S'okay I got it! Nobody's gonna harm masta."

Red blinked. "You ARE GIR? No, don't answer, later." He pelted forward, the tunnel rising continually. "You dug all this?"

"I can dig good!" GIR continued running alongside Red, not breaking a sweat.

Red could see the end, a light glowing in the darkness. He aimed for it, bursting through to the surface alongside GIR. "GIR, where is the nearest…" He froze, a look of pure horror on his face.

GIR paused, looking forward. He beamed, waving an arm wildly. "GAZZY!"

Gaz stood a few feet from the entrance of the hole, arms crossed. "I've been waiting. You guys are really slow." She sighed. "Great. They're injured. Now we have to do it the hard way. Don't move."

Red backed up. "No, don't even think—"

_Blackness._

….

**Note:** Did ya'll know you were part of a literary experiment of mine? Most of my fics are scraps of ideas floating around, this one was a few scraps, but one of the base ideas, and questions, was, "Can I take the most hated character in this series to date, and make him sympathetic again?" Based on all reactions, I'd say Red has come full circle. This was fun…. No it's not over. And for the record, I have no freaking clue what plasma weapons are, they just sound sci-fi and cool. admits to plotholes.


	32. Arrest and Probation

**Note: **Dangit SlurpeeMonster you have no account, and I cannot respond to you privately! Suffice it to say, yes, Red has a ton more making up to do if it is possible, and that is a good deal of the next story, and as we are rapidly drawing to a close on this one (probably within 5 chapters or less) that's not too far off.

…..

Booty stared down the hole, shaking with rage. They'd escaped. Zim had gotten free of his clutches again. _Again._ Oh the taste of a natural creature's misery was more intoxicating than an army of cloned drones, but this was worse than a missed opportunity for stolen strength. He'd drawn together too many strands of misery, intertwining. Sometimes, strained too tightly, those strands had a way of whipping back at the tuner.

He could hear new shouts, calls to throw down their weapons. Membrane, he guessed, must have called for reinforcement. Too late, but it would still shut down this branch of his reach.

_This vessel is of no further use._

DarkBooty could feel tendrils of thought exiting his mind, slithering through his brain as a presence left him. He sank to his knees, wide-eyed.

"Orders sir!" A soldier asked frantically, as Membrane's soldiers advanced."

DarkBooty looked up, and around, disoriented. Orders? Why were they all there, he'd just been observing Zim in his cell. Maybe now Dib would listen to him. What had the alien done? Something about a girl. His head felt like it was splitting apart…

"Orders sir!" The soldier repeated, raising a rifle.

"Stand down…" Booty held his head in his hands. "Stand…. Down…"

The Swollen Eyeball threw down their rifles, as Membrane's Militia swarmed among them, restraining and cuffing each. They began throwing open doors, searching for more members. One opened a closet door, and drew back at the sound of two screams. "Sir, a Swollen Eyeball member, and what looks like the kidnapped child on the news."

A higher ranking Membrane soldier approached to inspect. "It is the child. Restrain the woman. Return the child to her family. All members of the Swollen Eyeball are being taken in to the authorities."

"Sir…" another called from down the hall. "We found him. He's dead, shot in the head."

The officer paused a moment, bowing his head. Straightening, he barked, "Four of you, carry his body out. Bring it back to Membrane Inc. We'll begin making arrangements, and find someone to inform the widow."

…..

Red tumbled out onto the grass, gasping for air and shaking from head to toe. His eyes darted left and right. He had to run, he had to get away, he head to get as far away as he could before—

_SLAP_

A tiny hand smacked across his face, snapping his head to the side. Blinking, he brought it back forward. Gaz stood there, hands on her hips, a scowl on her face. Zim lay at her feet, still unconscious, and GIR was nearby, also gathering his senses.

She pointed to the side, and Red followed the direction of her finger to see the campsite he and Zim had set up, complete with the medical pod waiting.

"You might want to get him in there. He's not doing so well." She muttered. "Does that thing work on humans too?"

Red shakily got to his feet, grabbing Zim. "N-not if you w-want him to stay h-human, the n-nanobots are p-programmed to convert an-anything to Irken c-cell base structure. Wh-where is he?"

Gaz rolled her eyes. "I still have him, idiot. I'm keeping him in stasis so he doesn't die. Showing up at the hospital's going to be tricky, but if I take him out before we get there, yeah, he's gonna die. Not gonna happen."

Red shuddered, but stumbled toward the medical pod. Removing the blood soaked cloth, he placed Zim inside, sealing the pod and starting the process. "GIR, g-go get things… branches, pine cones, rocks, whatever you can find, bring them here."

GIR nodded. "Okee dokee." Sprinting off toward a more heavily wooded part of the forest, he vanished into the trees.

Red glanced over his shoulder. Gaz was still standing there. His spooch twisted. _Is she going to eat me again for real?_ "Wh-what do you want?"

Gaz tilted her head. "I want to know what your plans are, once Zim's in one piece."

Red turned and looked at the pod, silent for a moment. "I don't know. I'm a stranger here. He's the one who is connected with the natives. It's his choice."

Gaz growled. "I didn't ask what his plans were, I asked what yours were."

Red shivered, feeling like he was walking a very fine line with no net. "I don't know. I have to talk to Zim."

Gaz stared at him a moment, then turned away. "When you've finished talking to him, you come and tell me. Consider me your probation officer. If you screw up, you know the consequences."

Red's knees buckled a little, and he clung to the pod to stay upright, trying to fight off memories of the horrible feeling… so long.

Then she was gone. GIR returned, hauling a huge armload of branches, loaded with pinecones, nuts, and one with a couple apples. "Thought you an' Masta gonna be hungry."

Red sat down carefully, and began feeding items into the med pod. "I'm not hungry right now. It's alright." He sighed, glancing over at GIR. "And just what happened to you? Last I knew, your head exploded, and you were a robot. Now you're human? But obviously more than human."

"Oh, da's easy. Project G-001SIR." He beamed.

Red's eyes bulged. "You're… WHAT?"


	33. Healing Scars

Zim came to, hacking and spewing the healing goo everywhere. He opened his eyes, squinting against the sun, lifting an arm to shade his face.

"Masta waked!" A familiar voice cheered, before strong arms wrapped around his middle, constricting his air flow.

"GIR… release Zim…" He wheezed as the grip loosened. He blinked. "GIR?" His mind locked onto the voice. It was definitely GIR, had DarkBooty been lying about the bot's destruction? He glanced down.

GIR beamed up at him from a human face, complete with a silver mop of hair and glowing cyan eyes. "Masta's all better."

Zim stared, speechless.

"Model G-001SIR." Zim swung his head in the direction of Red's voice. The Tallest crouched, not too far away, still staring at GIR in disbelief. "We were lying about giving you an advanced SIR… but gave you the most advanced piece of equipment the empire has to offer by complete accident."

Confused, Zim managed, "Huh?"

Red shook his head. "G-001 was supposed to be the first in a line of new SIR units, highly adaptable to any situation. Their processing was exceptionally fast, and they were built to integrate into whatever alien situation they were placed in. The shell itself was programmed to run and be activated by anything. Whatever you put in the head cavity instantly became the CPU, although the cruder the material the less functional the SIR became. We included a mini med pod capability into its system, allowing it to take cell samples from native inhabitants of any planet and create its own living tissue camouflage."

"How did it take this long for him to activate that?!" Zim demanded.

Red shook his head. "We scrapped the G-001. It was too emotional. It got attached to the species we were trying to conquer. We pulled that thing out of the garbage… we thought it was one of the malfunctioning SIR shells lying around. Pur stuck marbles and screws, pennies and paperclips in its head. Must have been enough to get it running, but just barely."

"Then how…" He pointed, again, to GIR, currently doing handstands.

"All I know is he shot straight up into the air and exploded, and the next thing I know he looks like that." He shrugged. "Must have activated the secondary processor, here." He poked GIR's chest as the bot passed, and a small cyan square lit up for a moment. "An emergency backup processor, in case the original was damaged, whose primary directive was to repair all damage done to the SIR and blend in. He must have done just that, then come to find you."

"Find me..." Zim blinked, then sucked in a breath. "Find me." _The Eyeball._ He looked down at his torso, where a second scar ran next to the first they'd inflicted, longer than before. He touched it for a moment, trying to recall the panicked flight with Dib through the underground.

"Dib!" His head shot up. "Is the Dib safe, is he alright?"

Red shivered slightly. "The morflar took him to a medical unit. He should be fine."

"What about Tiana?" He demanded, grabbing onto a nearby tree to pull himself up.

Red stood, walking over to help Zim to his feet. "I don't know any Tiana," He admitted, "All I saw was you and the boy completely surrounded, there wasn't another prisoner in sight."

_Tunaghost must have gotten her free, _Zim attempted to assure himself. _She had to._ He blinked, realizing Red was still holding onto his arm. Why was he...

_"Irken Invader Zim is my smeet, my offspring, and if you so much as touch a cell on his body again, I will personally disintegrate you down to the molecular level."_

His knees gave out, but this time Red was there, holding him up. His Tallest. His Danem.

"Why didn't you tell me when I was first coherent enough to understand?" Red demanded harshly. "All you did was talk in riddles and evade the question, and if it weren't for that morflar I would never have known."

Zim cringed, antennae lowering submissively.

"Answer me!" Red's grip tightened.

Zim could feel it starting up again, the ache. Red didn't mean to accept him, of course, how stupid of him. The worst of it was, the only answer he could come up with was, "I don't know."

Red pushed him back by the tree, leaning him up against it, and released him. He turned, striding several paces away, and scowling at the ground.

Zim leaned against the tree, feeling numb. It had all been a waste. And now Red would kill him, like he'd killed all the others. Somehow, he could not bring himself to care.

"You cannot ever use that word again." Red's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Not on this planet, and not if we return to Irk. You cannot speak it, and with your history of blurting things I'd suggest you stop thinking it."

Zim's face twisted in confusion, but Red continued, speaking at the ground.

"If anyone so much as suspected your status as a natural hybrid, you would be instantly sentenced to death. Even here, if a whisper of it got off planet, there's the chance it would catch up to you later. Therefore, from this moment on, as your Tallest, I forbid you to ever speak the word Danem again."

_Is he... protecting me?_

"Secondly. You will, in the presence of any Irken, treat me with all the deference that a table-headed service drone would give a Tallest. Acting with familiarity toward a Tallest is questionable, and no questions can be afforded the Empire."

_He is protecting me._

"Thirdly. As you have saved the life of a Tallest, whenever I am able to get a message off-planet, and am rescued, your status as Mekrelmar will be revoked. You will be re-entered into the history of Irk as an Invader whose failures could be attributed to temporary insanity, but whose deep undercover work on a backwards planet will lead to its eventual downfall." As Zim opened his mouth to protest the last part, Red raised a hand. "Eventual, which can translate to any number of years or decades, by which time this planet will be forgotten, and I will see to it that it is forgotten."

Zim reached his hand up, touching the brand carved in his forehead. The bandage had been lost early on in his capture, but more pressing matters had been on his mind.

Red glanced over, and turned, walking back over to Zim. He looked down at him for a few moments. Zim looked up, still feeling very small. He was no longer the tiny thing he used to be, but still, compared with a Tallest, was so very small.

Reaching out a claw, Red gently touched Zim's forehead. "If I could take this back," he said quietly, "I would. But that is not possible. Many things are not possible to take back that I wish were."

There it was again. Not the ache, but the filling, the overflowing filling, to the point of bursting. He blinked back the goop in his eyes. With an unsteady voice, he managed, "Thank you, My Tallest."

Red paused, turning his head away slightly. Zim knew he could hear the new meaning he gave the title.

Red dropped his hand and looked back to Zim. "So. Here is the question, Zim. What now? I will continue to attempt contact with the Empire, but that could take months. Are you going to follow through with your original plan to leave this place, or return?"

Zim's head drooped. "I owe them an explanation if nothing else," he murmured. "After that, we will see."

Red nodded, pulling a holographic patch from his pocket and placing it on his shirt. "I'll wait outside the place of your meeting. Oh. And you'll need this." He walked over to the pod and picked up a paper bag sitting by it. Reaching in, he pulled out an orange sweatshirt and black pants, tossing them at Zim. "Had to use your monies card, but your shirt was missing and your pants are soaked in regenerative goo."

Zim caught the clothes, smiling faintly. He glanced at GIR, who sported a plain t-shirt and jeans. _He thought of GIR too._

Zim began pulling on the clothes, a bit of the lightness and joy seeping out of him as he thought of his upcoming meeting.

_What am I going to tell them?_


	34. Recapping the Trauma

Zim swallowed hard as he approached what he had come to consider his home. He'd given himself a day, sending GIR ahead of himself as a messenger. GIR had gone to the hospital where Dib had made a full recovery, and to Zim's home where his family was waiting. GIR reported back that they would all be waiting for him in the living room, and that his family had retrieved Tiana from the police station where she had been transferred. Zim had sent him back one more time, asking that Tiana not be part of the meeting. He wasn't sure if he could even look at her again.

Red had opted to sit on the nearest bus bench halfway down the street and wait. With his holographic disguise, there wouldn't be an issue.

Zim approached the house, raising a hand to knock, when the door swung open.

A crying face and flying black hair was all he could make out before he was tackled to the ground by Mikko, who clung to him, shouting, "You idiot, you're both idiots! Don't ever do that again! I don't care what it was, don't do it again!"

Zim grimaced, his PAK digging into his back. Carefully he scooted into a sitting position on the porch, holding Mikko, feeling the shame starting up.

A dark, powerful hand settled on Mikko's shoulder, tugging her to her feet. "Let him explain, Mikko." Tom said. Zim could hear the tension in his voice, and knew that if Tom was on edge, Della was probably fit to strangle him with his own organs.

Head lowered, he stood, entering the living room. He glanced up long enough to see Della pacing across the far end of the room. The carpet under her feet was slightly darker than the rest of the floor, indicating she had been doing this for quite some time. Possibly longer than this day even. Mikko had taken a seat on the right side of the couch. Tom settled his bulk into the Lay-Ze-Boi across from the couch. Dib sat in a wheelchair, also across from the couch, his shoulder heavily bandaged and both his legs in casts. His expression was strained, great rings circling under his eyes, which remained fixed on the couch. Obviously, Zim gathered, he was meant to sit there.

_No Tiana in sight, at least._

Zim carefully seated himself on the left end of the couch, folding his hands, and staring down at the carpet. His spooch twisted at the heavy silence in the room, broken only by Mikko blowing her nose, and Della's frenetic footsteps. His antennae lowered, and he said, quietly, "I don't know where to start, someone please ask something."

"What the hell were you doing?" Dib stared at him, eyes narrowed. "I saw you in that cell. What did you think you were doing, being a good big brother?"

Zim cringed. He hadn't expected that to be the very first question. "I—"

"And why didn't you come to me? I told you over and over to come to me, tell me what's going on, that I can help you! No, what do you do? You let Gaz walk all over you. Idiot! I have years of experience dealing with Gaz. Morflar or not, I could have talked her into whatever you needed, she listens to me when it's really important!"

"I—"

"Just because Red's your Dad doesn't mean you have to run and hide like a coward from everyone else. Did you choose him over us? Did you? Just because he's _your kind_ and we're not?"

Zim's head lowered into his hands.

"Dib, would you shut up and let him say something?" Della snapped from across the room. Dib subsided into an angry glower, as Zim attempted to pull together some kind of answer.

After a long pause, he began.

"No… I did not choose him over you. Gaz began coming to me, insisting that I leave, before I even knew. Then I found out, and she became even more insistent, saying my family would be in danger… so I said I would leave, as long as she gave me Red. She did… but he was…" He felt sick as he recalled the state of his Tallest that night. "…as good as dying. I needed medical equipment this planet does not have. DarkBooty found GIR, and used him to track me, and offered an exchange. That I come in for non-surgical testing and questions for a week, and he would give me the med pod. I knew he was up to something, but I needed that pod, so I agreed.

"It was mostly innocuous testing, until Gaz came again, insisting we had to leave, or she'd take Red back. I didn't understand why she was so insistent, but I bargained with the Eyeball to reduce my time in testing for more severe tests, as long as they didn't cut me open, and DarkBooty agreed. The last day I was supposed to go in…" His eyes flew open a moment.

"_Your father came down here too, blasting away. Dropped several of our guards, irritating to say the least. But he's lying with them now, gathering flies."_

He'd forgotten… he glanced over to Dib, eyes wide. "Dib, your father, did he—"

Dib shut his eyes, turning his head away. Zim lowered his head back into his hands, resuming his story in a toneless voice. "He came and found me, and told me who my… who my biological mother was. I understood why Gaz wanted me gone, I understood why I had to leave. Besides all that… I'm a monster to her. She's said so herself." He took a deep, trembling breath. "So I left him and went to the Eyeball. Along the way, I found out Tiana had been abducted on the news." He closed his eyes. "I knew what it meant. But if I went to anyone else, they would hurt her.

"So I went. And found out, I'd only traded myself for her physical safety. They weren't going to let her go." He rocked a little at the memory of the despair he'd felt. "They cut me, and they put me in the cell. They'd put a screen on the wall for her to watch. I told her to shut her eyes, that it wasn't real, that we could get through it." His voice was raw. "She gave me hope. That maybe I could survive whatever they threw at me, as long as I could see her, and protect her.

"He knew it. DarkBooty… curse him… knew it. He… he took me into a room and told me…" shame rolled up from his spooch, choking at his voice. His shoulders began to shake, and he began to break down. "Please… I would have taken anything they would have done to me, but… please don't think…."

A gentle hand lay on his shoulder. He looked up to see Mikko had scooted across the couch, and was gripping his shoulder, her eyes moist. "Zim. Tell us."

He shut his eyes again, digging his claws into his pant legs. "He ordered me to mate with Tiana. That if I did not within two hours, he would send her to Irk." He doubled over, clutching his face.

"Irk… you can't know, you can't," he moaned, trying to keep from breaking down entirely. "Anything the Swollen Eyeball could do here on Earth can be done on Irk with 200% more accuracy, more pain. They specialize in finding species weaknesses and exploiting them to the fullest extent. I know. I was there. I helped make it happen sometimes. I couldn't… I couldn't let her be sent there… not knowing what would happen… but I couldn't see her… be like your mother, Dib… I can't watch her become a shell, I can't stand to see your faces after, I can't hurt my sister like that…" He was vaguely aware he had slipped into present tense, but it seemed trivial. He felt every terrible moment of the situation pressing down on him, and he couldn't even lift his head to gauge the reaction of his family. He whispered, "I didn't see any other way out. I waited, until the two hours were almost up… then… I…"

"He was about to kill her." Dib finished, his voice subdued. "You were gonna kill yourself too, weren't you?"

Zim nodded his head with the barest of motions. His voice was almost inaudible. "I couldn't see any other way." Gathering his courage, he raised his face to meet Della's stare, an unreadable expression on her face. His vision was distorted, as he pleaded. "I tried. I didn't see a way out. I'm sorry."

Dib exhaled a long breath. "Idiot." He shook his head. "I get it. But you never give up like that. Did you really think we wouldn't find you?"

Zim dropped his head again, nodding. Mikko's hand moved from his shoulder around his arm, pulling him into a tight hug. He leaned into the much-needed embrace, a few tears trailing down his face.

A second pair of arms wrapped around him, and he broke down.

"You weren't supposed to be here!" He wailed. "You weren't supposed to hear—"

Tiana's voice was shaky. "Hid in the closet… I wanted to know. Zim," she hugged him tighter. "You did your best. You were trying your hardest. I get it. Promise. I'm not mad. Well, I'm mad you lied, but you protected me. You kept your promise."

And for the second time in his life, the mighty Invader Zim completely lost control. Held on either side by a sister, he let all defenses disintegrate, and wept.


	35. Silently Grieving

**Note: **For full effect of what Della is seeing, transformationwise, read chapter 9 of Maneem (the first story in this series), then this chapter.

...

Della watched the scene before her with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was all wrong, all of it. She remembered Zim when he'd first come to them. Angry, arrogant, defiant and obnoxious. She remembered the one moment when he had frightened her most, when she had seen a side of him she never wanted to see again. She'd seen, and recognized in him, the potential to slaughter and destroy without remorse.

Even then, he'd willingly dived into a swimming pool to save Tiana. Before they'd fully incorporated him into their family.

She'd come to realize that Zim's violence and rage was a product of trauma and insanity, a defense mechanism to enable his survival in a harsh, cruel society. That, when those layers of insanity were peeled back, he was little more than a child, needing love and support, like any other child.

Not that he wasn't fully capable. It was difficult, at times, for Della to balance seeing Zim as a functioning adult of an alien species, and the broken child who'd clung to her, calling her Mommy in his own language.

But he'd been shattered so many times. Between the cruelties of Irk and Earth together, it was a marvel he hadn't returned to his efforts of enslaving humans, turning back on them the horrors he had been made to endure here. And yet, there he sagged on the couch, between her daughters, once again the broken child. He'd been faced with two equally unacceptable scenarios, and chosen an only slightly less unacceptable alternative. Could she fault him for that? Could she blame him for not being able to see a way out, when his mind was so often clouded by his fears and despair?

And he hadn't been the one to suggest the sick experiment with her daughter. It had been DarkBooty.

And after all this, after he'd given his all and thrown himself between their family and danger, he was terrified that they would throw him out. It was painfully obvious in the way that he clung to the girls, sobbing so hard he was almost retching.

She glanced over to Tom, who watched the scene before him sorrowfully. He turned his head to look at Della, and she could read on his face that he'd already come to the same conclusion. An irrational irritation hit her. He'd probably come to this before Zim had even finished speaking, he was always a step ahead.

Not the time. She turned to the couch and walked over. "Mikko, Tiana, can I?"

The girls held onto Zim a moment longer, before pulling away. Blindly, Zim reached after them in anxiety. Della caught his hand, and he froze. She settled next to him. He wasn't as small as he was seven years ago, and she couldn't quite hold him like she did then, but she pulled his head against her shoulder, and wrapped her arms firmly around him.

"You did the best you could, Zim." She rested her head on his, gently. "Nobody will fault you for doing the best you could. That's all that's expected of anybody in this family, that they do the best they can."

Zim remained frozen for a moment, and she wondered briefly if he'd fainted. Then, he was clinging to her, his sobs reduced to silent, hissing cries. His antennae quivered, and Tiana perched on the arm of the couch. Wiping her eyes with one hand, she reached the other out, stroking his antennae gently.

Within moments, the tears began to subside, and his grip on Della loosened. He rubbed his eyes, trying to catch his breath. "That was not supposed to go like that," he managed, weakly.

"I think what happened was exactly what needed to happen." Tom stated firmly.

Dib cleared his throat. "Zim. I know it's been a rough week... but... I'd appreciate it if you could at least see Mom."

Zim looked up at Dib, questioningly.

"Gaz gathered from Mom that she sent Dad to look for you when she was calm enough to think straight. She wanted to see you to apologize... she's not going to be in any shape to do that though. Gaz got the news from me... and she gave it to Mom. She caught me on my way out of the hospital. She says Mom hasn't moved from her chair since Gaz told her."

Zim rubbed his arms, looking unsure. Della felt a small twist in her stomach, but forced a smile. "It's alright, Zim, you should go see your maneem."

"She's not my Maneem." The reponse came so quickly, it surprised her. Zim looked up at her, full in the face. "She is my Mother. But she is not my Maneem. That title only belongs to one person."

The smile that crossed her face was anything but forced this time.

Dib's glare bored into Zim. "She may not be your 'Maneem' but she is mine, and she's the only parent I have left. Treat her gently."

Zim stood, looking exhausted. Quietly, he replied, "I know she is, Dib. And she is my Mother. I will treat her with all the respect she deserves." He walked forward, placing a hand on Dib's good shoulder. "We were already brothers before this, Dib. I know I made bad choices. But I am still learning." He paused, and finished softly, "And I am sorry, that some of my decisions cost you."

Dib looked away from Zim, clenching his jaw for a moment, before raising his good hand to awkwardly grab Zim's. "You're an idiot." He muttered.

Zim sighed. "So everyone tells me. We go now to see... mother. Yes?"

...

Zim walked through the door of the house he'd visited so often before. He'd passed by Red, still sitting at the bus bench. He passed by, holding one hand slightly away from his side, in a gesture to wait, he'd be back. Now, he passed through the living room, walking toward the dining room.

She sat with her back to the door, all he could see was her purple hair. Her body was held stiff and motionless. He came around the side of her, and saw her face, strained and pale. There was no redness or puffiness around her eyes, that usually accompanied human crying. Just a still, blank, disbelief.

He pulled out a chair, sitting beside her carefully. Her expression didn't even flicker.

"Hello... mother." He said quietly.

No response.

"From what I gather... nothing happened the way anybody wanted it to. But I am here, as you asked."

Nothing.

Looking down, he saw her hands, clenched tightly at her sides. Reaching over, he took one of her fists, gently, and began uncurling her fingers. "I can't apologize for what I am. I can't change that I am Irken." He slipped his hand into hers. "Whatever you may think of me, I will be here for you, whether out of sight or closer." He paused, seeing her mouth tremble. "I do not know your grief. But I have known grief too." His hand closed around hers. "If you hold onto it, it will drive you mad. If you release it, you come through the other side, stronger."

Slowly, Gloria listed slightly to the side, toward Zim. Alarmed, he released her hand, catching her as she slumped over. She remained like that in his arms, motionless for a moment, before reaching up, slowly, and taking his hand.

Zim supported her with one arm, using his free hand to hold hers. Silence stretched out between them, and Zim settled back in his chair, holding Gloria in her silent grief.

"I will be here for you." He repeated. "I promise." Before lapsing back into silence.

...

**Note: **One more chapter, and then the next installment in the series! The name of the next story will be revealed in... ah forget it, I should write it down now before I forget. It's going to be Sempadinum. What's it mean? Well... you'll just have to stick around to find out now, won't you?


	36. Loose Ends

**Note:** Mahhh swiss cheese brain strikes again! G-001SIR was not my idea. It was CHIKARAfiction's idea. Ya'll can thank him for "bringing GIR back to life" cause I was just gonna explode him. In other news, this fanfiction has long surpassed the current wordcount on my novel. I think I'mma go curl up in the corner and be pathetic now.

...

It was late evening by the time Zim made it out to the bus bench, seating himself beside Red. Red's head was tilted back, his eyes closed, but he sat up when he felt Zim slide in next to him.

"Is it common for large vehicles to stop in front of this seat and wave, honk, then move on?" Red asked, annoyed.

Zim blinks. "Did it have big letters on the side that said WHAT ABOUT THE BUS?" When Red nodded, Zim rolled his eyes. "Stupid cranky bus slave drone. Yes. This is a seat where people sit and wait to pay to get on that vehicle."

Red gaped. "Monies are paid to get on that monstrosity?"

Zim nodded. "I know, it's crazy."

Red looked ahead. "So, do you know what you're going to do?"

Zim also looked ahead. "Yes. I am still needed here. So I am going to stay here with them." He paused. "And you?"

The Tallest shifted. "I have to consider my options. I will continue to try contacting the Empire, but until they receive anything, I am stranded here. I have a thought, but I need to... research it, a bit more." He glanced over to Zim. "In short... I'll be nearby. Most likely. Hold still."

Zim blinked. "What are you—" He stiffened as he felt a wire connect with his PAK. He could feel a heavily encrypted anchor code being downloaded into his PAK.

"You should be able to communicate with me through PAKlink now." Red said, disconnecting the wire. "And with that encryption, I don't think we have to worry about being heard."

Zim's eyes were wide. PAKlink with a Tallest. Unheard of. But then, so was a Tallest having offspring.

Red stood. "I have to complete some research on my options. I will be back."

Zim's antennae lifted. "Will you be alright out there? You still have barely any Earth know-how... and where will you stay?"

Red scratched his head. "For now, the campsite. I'll be fine. Training was awhile ago, but I still trained with the best of them."

Zim dug into his pocket and pulled out his monies card. "Take this, you'll need it." He said.

Hesitating a moment, Red accepted it. "The amount used will be repaid once I figure out their currency system." He promised.

_No need,_ Zim thought, but he knew that would be an insult to his Tallest's pride. Instead, he nodded. He wiggled his antennae in subtle salute, and Red inclined his head. Turning, Red walked off toward the campsite.

Zim stood, heading back to his home, hands in his pockets. Dib would be setting up his interview with the government agencies over the next few days, so he could explain what happened—well, most of it, maybe leaving Red out of it, and Gaz—and testify against the Swollen Eyeball agents caught at the scene. He'd be lucky if they didn't stick a tracker on him. He'd spoken with Dib, and come to the conclusion that it would help ease Gloria into being around him again if he came a couple times a week.

Exhaustion dragged at his feet, and he sighed. Food could wait until the next day. Sleep was imperative, perhaps for two or three days.

The surrounding temperature dropped a few degrees, and Zim shivered at the chill. "Gaz? Is that you?"

"Well somebody's observant."

Zim turned, tiredly, and started back. Gaz stood there, an unconscious Irken gripped firmly by the antennae in one hand. "Don't worry. It's one of your bounty hunters. I'll toy with him a bit, let him go long enough to blast the fact that there's a morflar around, before I eat him."

Zim shuddered, feeling an unreasonable amount of pity for the Irken.

Gaz growled a little. "I can't change what I am, Zim. If it's not you or Red, it's gotta be somebody. It's just how it is."

Zim blinked. "So... you are leaving Red alone?"

Gaz' eyes narrowed. "That depends entirely on what he tells me when I go talk to him tonight. But most likely, as long as he doesn't do anything really stupid."

Zim tilted his head. He'd spoken enough with Gaz over the past couple of weeks to be able to pick up undercurrents of other emotions in her voice. Her voice wasn't nearly as menacing and threatening as it usually was. If anything, it was low... almost mellow. Even with her aggressive choice of words, it was obvious she wasn't as vicious as she had been.

Zim looked down. "I'm sorry about your... parental unit." He said quietly.

Gaz flinched, and turned her head away. "It was your fault." She said flatly. "But... it was my fault too..." Her shoulders sagged. "I mishandled it, and you made stupid choices because of that."

Zim rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Yes. So I'm told. My choices are stupid."

Gaz glanced over, and grunted. "Go sleep or something. And stop setting up those stupid sound traps, I don't think any bounty hunters will come within a mile of this planet once they know."

Zim's head wobbled in a nod. He averted his eyes from the captive Irken, and turned, walking up toward his house. It had already been a difficult week, but the next one was going to be just as long.

...

Red poked a stick at the fire he'd gotten going, keeping his eyes fixed on the flames. He knew it wouldn't be long now. He'd have to present his proposal to... _that thing, _and hope it didn't eat him on the spot.

Sure enough, the flames flickered lower, and the temperature around him dropped. He kept his eyes on the flames, his antennae lowering.

_So. Have you come up with a plan yet?_

Red took a deep breath, nodding.

_Well, out with it. Let's see if it's any good._

Red opened his mouth, and nothing came out. He cursed this choking fear clogging his voice, he was the Tallest for Irk's sake! He shouldn't be cowed by anything, not even a morflar.

_Well?_

What came out of his mouth was a jumble of words slammed together, an audible mess of an idea, but Gaz must have understood, because two glowing red eyes whipped around in front of his face, wide and disbelieving.

_You want to do WHAT?_

**THE END**

...

**Note:** I've decided to open up shop for questions. Look for me, with my selfsame username, on Tumblr. I also tweet, but since Twitter is all about brevity it restricted my username. In that case, I go to the closest thing, Hecallsmehisown. When I'm not answering questions, I'll be brainstorming projects and reposting things I see that I like (including all aforementioned fanart). See you in the Social Media quagmire! And in the next story, **Sempadinum**!


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